


The Dogs of War

by moretomhardy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Military, M/M, Prince Derek, Soldier Derek, Spy Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 01:19:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12783819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moretomhardy/pseuds/moretomhardy
Summary: Derek is a warrior prince of a nation in conflict. Stiles is a newly minted spymaster sent from the capital to help turn the tide of the war. Somewhere along the way, they start to mean a lot more to each other than just their titles.





	The Dogs of War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [petals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petals/gifts).



> Fun facts: this is officially the longest fic I've ever written, and also includes the fastest 11,000 words I've ever written.
> 
> Many thanks to the exchange mods, both for putting this whole thing on and for being very patient with me when I overran the deadline by three weeks.
> 
> Beta'ed by the lovely blamethewolf on tumblr, and given a good read through by icarusinflight. All mistakes my own, especially since that spurt of 11,000 words at the end caused quite a backlog on the feedback front.
> 
> Inspired by a prompt from petals, reading:  
> Military AU. (Historical would be AMAZING whether it's a made up war, or whatever is fine, but I won't be upset if it is not historical.) Werewolves in this universe are fine, but so is no werewolves, whatever you're feeling.  
> Basically, they get lonely and need comfort, not just sexually, but emotionally, as well. Secret relationship and sneaking around, maybe they're different ranks. I'd love to see all the ups and downs of a secret relationship that would happen in the military during wartime. 
> 
> I ended up drifting far away from a secret relationship, but I hope you enjoy this military love story anyways.

There was a messenger waiting at Derek’s tent when he got back.

“Commander Hale,” he greeted with a shallow incline of his head, “your uncle has requested your presence.”

Derek sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Right now?”

The messenger's neutral expression shifted into a frown. “General Hale said you should come immediately when he dispatched me half an hour ago.”

“Very well then, lead the way.” Derek dropped the hand at the back of his neck to gesture impatiently at the messenger, who turned on his heel with a huff and headed towards the General’s tent.

His uncle bared his teeth in mockery of a smile when Derek pushed his way through the tent flaps. “Nephew, good of you to finally join us.”

“Uncle.” Derek nodded towards Peter before focusing on the human standing next to him. “I only just now returned to my tent.”

“Of course,” Peter purred, “a commander’s work is never finished.” He paused for a grand moment, eyes fixed on the human with him, before saying, “Stiles, let me introduce my nephew, Derek Hale, brother to Her Royal Majesty Queen Laura, Duke of the Western Hills, and Commander of the armies of the same. Derek, this is Stiles, son of Commander of the Royal Guard John Stilinski, and protégée of Deaton. Derek, Stiles is to be your new spymaster.”

Derek's mouth dragged down into a confused frown. “Mine personally?”

“Yes, more’s the pity,” Peter sighed. “The Queen thinks Morrell is too thinly stretched, so she’s dispatched Stiles here to come to her aid, specifically to assist you in the vanguard.”

Derek nodded, looking back and forth between Peter and Stiles.

“Will I still get Morrell’s reports, or will it all be Stiles’ now?”

“We’ll have to see how things go, now, won’t we.”

“Very well,” Derek nodded, “it will --” he cut himself off as he heard running footsteps approaching Peter’s tent. He exchanged a look with Peter before stepping back to the entrance and sweeping open the flaps.

Isaac appeared from around a corner, eyes tight and a long smear of blood down his right side.

“What’s wrong?” Derek barked, stepping outside the tent.

“Liam’s not healing, none of our wolfsbane is working,” Isaac panted.

“Uncle, we can finish this later,” Derek called over his shoulder as he grabbed Isaac’s arm and steered him back towards Derek’s own tent. He heard Peter sigh and start to apologize to Stiles before Derek jogged out of hearing range. “What kinds have you already tried?” he asked Isaac.

“Blue climbing, trailing white, and southern blue; everything that’s been in Morrell’s reports.”

Derek cursed wholeheartedly. This situation had started to happen more and more often of late, though whether it was because Morrell was overworked, as Peter said Laura thought, or for some other reason, Derek couldn’t say. When they got back to Derek’s tent, Derek rushed inside to pick up a mid-sized chest packed with samples of every strain of wolfsbane Derek has ever been able to get his hands on. The chest had saved dozens of lives at this point in the war, thanks to the Teufels’ constant switching between different flavors of poison.

“Lead the way,” Derek said as he ducked back out of his tent with the chest tucked under his arm. Isaac nodded and took off running again.

* * *

Derek was busy hanging fresh bundles of wolfsbane up to dry when a quiet set of footsteps stopped in front of his tent. An unfamiliar voice called “Commander Hale?”

Derek dropped his arms and sneezed several times from the wolfsbane pollen as he walked across the tent to sweep the flaps open. Stiles was standing there, looking uncertain with a ream of papers in his hands. Derek had nearly forgotten his brief meeting with the new spymaster in the busy week since.

“Stiles,” Derek greeted, then promptly sneezed twice more.

Stiles’ forehead wrinkled. “Are you okay, Commander?”

“I'm fine,” Derek rasped, pressing his sleeve under his nose, “I'm drying some wolfsbane.”

“In your own tent?”

“Where else would I do it?”

“Is there not a human who’s tent you could use?”

“No, I’ve mixed all the tent assignments between humans and werewolves on purpose.”

“Oh. Huh.” Derek could see the realization flood across Stiles’ face. “Is that to, what, increase camaraderie across species?”

“Partially. And partially because we might need to communicate quickly in the middle of the night, and having the werewolves scattered around helps with hearing.”

“Oh, that makes a lot more sense than I thought it would.”

Derek snorted a laugh. “What do you have for me?” he asked, gesturing to Stiles’ papers.

“Um, it’s Morrell’s intelligence report, supplemented with some of my own work.”

“Good.” Derek nodded and swept the tent flaps open wider. “Come in and read it to me.”

“Oh, ah, okay, yes, sir,” Stiles said, ducking past Derek into his tent.

Derek busied himself with the wolfsbane once again while Stiles stood behind him and read the report. Most of the main cavalry had broken off and started moving to the east, and enemy scouts had been seen to the northeast. A new shipment of supplies had been brought in three days ago, and the main force did not show any signs of moving lately. Derek sighed as Stiles stopped reading and turned around. “Nothing about wolfsbane?”

“That’s what mine is for.” Stiles shuffled his papers around. “I was curious about what was in the shipment, so I went out with a scout to see what I could find. It was more of the trailing blue and climbing white, and they also got a good amount of purple flame.”

“Purple flame,” Derek snarled, spinning around to yank open his wolfsbane trunk. He rooted through until he found the box marked purple flame, and sure enough, there was only a scant handful of petals curled up in the dust at the bottom of the box. “Shit.” Derek leaned back on his haunches and dragged both hands through his hair, then cursed again when he remembered his hands were covered in wolfsbane and he’d have to wash now to get it off.

“General Hale gave me access to the messengers, so I sent one back to the capital with a request for some purple flame wolfsbane.”

“When?”

“Three days ago, late at night.”

“Okay,” Derek nodded, frowning to himself. If the main force continued to show so little sign of aggression, Laura just might get some out to them in time.

“And, um, I kind of stole some, also.”

Derek whipped his head up to look at Stiles. “How?”

“We had to break into the storage tent to see what was in their shipments, anyways, so I figured we might as well take some while we were there.”

“Do they know you took it?”

Stiles shrugged. “Hard to tell. They haven’t posted more guards to the tent, though, so I’m thinking probably not.”

“Where is it?” Derek got up and moved closer to Stiles.

“Uh, in a box outside my tent, since I didn’t want it to affect Scott or James. But, if you’re already doing all of this, maybe you want it?”

“Yes,” Derek sneezed again as he passed under a bundle of wolfsbane on his way to the entrance, “let’s go.”

“Okay, sure.” 

Derek heard Stiles start to follow him out into the camp.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“You said you were with Scott and James?” Derek looked at Stiles over his shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Derek nodded and jerked his head back around to the front.

When they arrived at Stiles’ shared tent, Derek was able to sniff out the distinctly itchy scent of wolfsbane from a trunk around back right away.

“Okay, that’s kind of creepy,” Stiles muttered under his breath as Derek knelt in front of the trunk to open it up. It was locked.

“The key?” Derek held out his hand towards Stiles.

“Yeah.” Stiles dug a loop of keys from a pocket on his belt and handed them to Derek with one pointing up.

Derek took it and opened the trunk to find three or four handfuls of wilted, partially dried flowers.

“This is good, this should tide us over.” Derek nodded and looked up at Stiles. “Good job.”

“Oh, thanks.” A burst of tart surprise colored Stiles’ scent. “I could help you string those up, if you wanted? Minimize your contact with poison and all.”

Derek squinted up at Stiles for a moment while he closed the trunk and stood with it under his arm. “Okay,” he decided, tossing Stiles’ keys back to him.

Stiles bobbled the keys several times before finally getting a hold of them and stuffing them back into their pouch. Derek stifled a smirk. “After you, your grace,” Stiles swept his arm out, face burning red and scent going slightly bitter.

Derek shook his head as he passed Stiles by. “If you want to use a title, just Commander will do.” Derek led Stiles back to his tent, where they made short work of the wolfsbane. Derek was glad of the help, as by the time they were finished his eyes, fingers, and throat were swollen, his eyes were flickering red off and on without his control, and he itched everywhere.

“Remember to wash,” he croaked to Stiles as he ushered him out of the tent in front of himself. He didn’t stay to hear Stiles’ response before he took off running towards the nearby stream. He stripped and plunged into the stream, scrubbing thoroughly at his hands until the swelling started to go down and then rubbing the pollen and oils off the rest of his body.

He allowed himself a few moments to float in the water before he heard quick footsteps approaching from the direction of the camp. Whoever was approaching was downwind, so Derek scrambled up into a thicket on the bank to watch for their approach.

“Derek?” Boyd’s voice called.

Derek relaxed and slid out of the thicket, scratches from the tiny thorns healing as soon as they formed on his skin.

“There you are.” Boyd took a few steps toward him. “Your uncle wants to talk to you.”

Derek growled and walked back to the stream to wash off the streaks of mud and beads of blood the thicket had left on his skin.

“You’ll have to make it a quick conversation, since it’s also nearly time for evening training. And I brought you a towel.” Boyd held out the rectangle of fabric as Derek stepped out the the stream again.

“Thank the gods for you, Boyd,” Derek sighed as he took the towel.

“You finished hanging the wolfsbane?”

“Yes. And I have a new spymaster who brought me some purple flame that was shipped to the Teufel camp a few days ago.”

Boyd’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s certainly an improvement.”

“Indeed.” Derek pulled on the last of his clothes. “I’ll see what Peter wants and then I’ll meet you in the ring.”

Boyd nodded. “I’ll get everyone there.”

They walked back to the camp together in silence before going their separate ways. Stiles and Morrell were already in Peter’s tent by the time Derek ducked inside.

“Whatever kept you so long, nephew?” Peter sniffed. “I sent a messenger nearly half an hour ago.”

“I was washing,” Derek glowered as he stepped up to the map the others were clustered around.

“Indeed,” Peter smirked. “Well I’d never deny a prince his beauty regime.”

“Peter,” Morrell snapped before Derek finished drawing breath for a retort. “The matter at hand, please.”

Peter sighed and turned his attention back to the map. “Very well, if we’re all so impatient. Stiles tells me he informed you earlier of the cavalry moving to the east. Morrell thinks their aim is to raid a village at the foot of the mountains here,” Peter pointed to a dot on the map labeled Ironton, “but I can’t fathom why.”

“Didn’t they just get a new shipment of supplies?” Derek looked up at Stiles and Morrell for confirmation.

“Yes, which is what makes it strange.” Morrell tapped a finger on the map. “I can’t fathom what they think they can get from a small village like that that they can’t get from their own supply chain.”

“Is it a mining village?” Stiles asked.

Morrell shrugged and looked at Peter, who looked equally uninformed.

“It’s called Ironton, so I think we can safely guess yes,” Derek grumbled when no one seemed able to answer.

“Well, if it is, they might just be looking for metals and weapons. I don’t think their latest shipment had any weapons, and Teufel doesn’t have many mines of it’s own.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Peter mused. “Laura signed a treaty with Ayan last year, and I think they did a significant trade in steel and iron with Teufel that they halted after signing the treaty, of course. They may be finally feeling the effects of that treaty in Teufel now.”

“Regardless of why they’re doing it, what are we going to do about it?” Derek asked. “We can’t just let them attack our villages without consequence.”

“Indeed we cannot.” Peter folded his arms and stared intently down at the map. “Originally, I had intended to send Derek to attack the camp while the cavalry were otherwise occupied, but now…”

Peter trailed off and Derek made an indignant noise. “And just let them attack the village? No, we’re not doing that.”

“I agree, if they’re short on weapons, we can’t let them get more. Derek, I think you should take Isaac and Boyd and try to head off the cavalry. We’ll keep Erica here to deter the main army from advancing while you’re gone. If only we had the size to launch a double-pronged attack.”

“Is it really a good idea to send two thirds of the army so far away?” Stiles asked.

“A necessary risk,” Peter waved Stiles off. “And we will have my guards here in addition to Erica’s division.”

“It’s not that far away,” Derek frowned down at the map. “But if we’re going to catch a cavalry, we can’t take humans on foot.”

“So you catch them on the way back instead of the way there, it doesn’t matter to me,” Peter said.

“That village is under my protection, so it matters to me,” Derek growled. “I’ll take Boyd and Isaac and their werewolves, but I’m leaving the humans here under Erica.”

Peter sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Very well. That would prevent anyone escaping from our ambush with their plunder.”

Derek nodded and looked back to the map. “Where should I try to set up the attack?”

“The road seems to go through a gulch here just before entering the village.” Morrell pointed out the spot on the map. “That would be your best bet for an ambush. However, they’ve also likely realized that, so they may leave the road here and try to go along the top of the gulch, or even all the way around the area.” She paused to ponder the map for a few more minutes. “There looks to be bad terrain here,” she pointed to a spot much further up the road, “that would give you an advantage over a cavalry.”

Derek measured the distances on the map to where Morrell was pointing. “If their cavalry was here this morning,” Derek tapped the pin in the map representing the cavalry, “then I don’t think we’ll be able to catch them before they pass that area.”

“Won’t there be bad terrain off the road at the top of a gulch, anyways?” Stiles asked. “Even if they do go over the top, you could still have the advantage of terrain. And you could put archers on the other side where they couldn’t be attacked, as well.”

“That’s true,” Morrell nodded. “So head for the gulch and trap them inside if they go through, and try to trap them on top if they go over.”

“Makes sense to me,” Derek nodded.

“I like it.” Peter stood up and clapped his hands together. “You had better start getting ready to leave, Derek.”

“I’ll leave as soon as possible. If anything else comes up, howl for me.”

“Of course,” Peter nodded. “You’re all dismissed.”

Derek jogged out of Peter’s tent, heading to the training ring where Boyd should have gathered a good segment of the troops right now.

“Derek,” Boyd greeted from where he was leaning on the fence, watching Kira and Scott go at each other, “that was quicker than I expected.”

“We’re heading out tonight,” Derek said without any preamble.

“Really?” Boyd’s eyebrows shot up. “What for?”

“Teufel sent nearly their entire cavalry out to the east to attack a mining village. We’re going to ambush them on the way.”

“Who’s coming?”

“You, me, and Isaac. Gather your werewolves and anyone who can keep up with a wolf’s lope. For everyone who can’t, they’ll answer to Erica until our return.”

Boyd nodded and turned back toward the ring. “Scott, Kira, James, Nitya!” Scott and Kira stopped their spar and James and Nitya broke away from the surrounding crowd.

“What’s going on?” Scott panted.

“We’re moving out. Gather all the runners and send the rest to Erica.”

“Where are we going?” Scott pressed while the others nodded and started to turn away.

“We’ll explain on the run,” Derek snapped. “Now go, time is waning.”

Scott frowned thunderously, but he followed his companions into the crowd.

“Where are Isaac and Erica?” Derek turned back to Boyd.

“Erica should be here any minute. I think Isaac snuck off somewhere with Allison.”

Derek sighed and tipped back his head to let out a short howl. Erica shouldered her way through the now-bustling camp a few moments later.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “I heard something about moving out?”

“Yes, but not you,” Derek answered. “Boyd, Isaac, and I are taking our runners to try to set up an ambush. The Teufel cavalry is on the move. You’re in charge of the camp while we’re gone.”

Erica sighed. “I don’t suppose Peter is going as well?”

Derek shook his head and Erica made a sour face. “I hope I don’t have to talk to him while you’re gone.”

“You shouldn’t have to -- I doubt the Teufels will want to try much without their cavalry. Oh, but that reminds me, Stiles stole some purple flame wolfsbane from their camp. If you need some, it’s… in my tent…” Derek trailed off, remembering that he had quite a lot of wolfsbane hanging in his tent right now. He’d just have to deal with that when he got back.

“They haven’t been using purple flame, have they?” Erica frowned.

“No,” Derek said, “this is another switch.”

Isaac finally pushed his way through the crowd just then, completely disheveled and reeking of sex. “Derek,” he panted when he reached them, “you called?”

“You need to get ready to move out.”

“Okay.” Isaac’s eyes flickered between Derek, Boyd, and Erica. “My whole division?”

“No, we’re moving fast. Bring your werewolves and anyone who can keep up. Send the rest to Erica.”

“Okay,” Isaac said again before turning to run back through camp.

“I’m going to pack up,” Derek said to Erica and Boyd. “Boyd, marshal your troops at the giant red oak. Tell Isaac the same. Erica, don’t let Peter run wild. Get Lydia if you need to.”

“Mmm, the big guns,” Erica smirked. “You be careful out there, boys. No unnecessary risks.”

“We’ll be fine.” Boyd leaned over to kiss Erica on the cheek.

“You had better be.” Erica return the kiss with one on Boyd’s mouth. “Now get out of here.”

Derek snorted as he and Boyd turned in different directions, leaving Erica standing with folded arms in the middle of the scurrying camp.

* * *

It was a hard run through forests and rocky terrain, but Derek got his soldiers to Ironton ahead of the Teufel cavalry. He sent Isaac down to speak to the townspeople along with Scott, Kira, and Danny, since they were the least likely to incite a panic. According to the scouts Derek had periodically sent out, Morrell’s guess held true and the Teufels were still on the road to Ironton. Derek sent Jackson and Nitya a few miles up the road to keep watch for the cavalry while he and Boyd worked to plan the attack. They stationed about half of their soldiers at the end of the gulch near Ironton, and the other half along either side of the top of the gulch, which spanned about half a mile and allowed five men to walk abreast. It wasn’t all that deep, maybe a little more than the height of two tall men, so once the cavalry was inside, some of the werewolves on top could jump down behind the cavalry to trap them in the trench while those that remained above rained down arrows and stones.

It would be nearly impossible to take horses over the treacherous rocks that made up the top of the gulch, but the Teufels could still decide to take a very long route around the gulch, and Derek didn’t like his chances if they did. While the ground around the village was all rocky and not well suited for a cavalry, that seemed a poor comfort for a foot soldier when charging a line of horses.

Derek paced while Boyd directed his soldiers to try to set up some siegeworks at the end of the gulch to help trap the Teufel cavalry more thoroughly.

Isaac returned in the mid-afternoon with a group of men and women from the town who wanted to join the fight to protect their home. Many were archers, and they approved of the tactics Derek had chosen with the gulch. They seemed to agree that the Teufels would probably take the risk of entering the gulch rather than waste close to a day going around each way.

The sun was beginning to glare red from the western sky when Jackson and Nitya came tearing up the road.

“They’re coming,” Jackson panted, “maybe twenty minutes away.”

Derek nodded grimly and climbed to the top of the gulch, leaving Boyd to command the soldiers at the end of the gulch and Isaac with his bow to hold the other side. Derek and the others on top laid down in the dust to keep themselves hidden as much as possible. He sent Malia down to the front of the gulch to make sure the cavalry was going inside. She came back some minutes later with the good news that they had. The Teufel vanguard began passing under Derek shortly afterward. 

Derek held in place until he heard the first shouts of “Ambush! Retreat!” coming from the front of the cavalry before he launched to his feet, the rest of the soldiers on the gulch following his lead. Isaac took command of the archers above while Derek ran to the end of the line of Teufel horses caught in the gulch and leaped down behind them. His soldiers fell from the gulch after him like a wave, and Derek let out a full-throated howl before running forward to plunge his spear through the stomach of the man riding the horse in front of him. The horse he left alive; in its riderless state it was just another roadblock between the cavalry and freedom.

The battle itself was brief, especially from Derek’s point of view. His soldiers only had to kill a few Teufel soldiers before the newly riderless horses blocked them from reaching any more. After that, they simply stood there to keep the cavalry trapped, howling and shouting to frighten and confuse the horses even more. Isaac and his archers created a bloodbath from above, and before long there were shouts of surrender echoing up and down the Teufel cavalry.

Derek left Malia in charge and clambered back to the top of the gulch, where he could run to the front and oversee the terms of surrender.

“Their leader is dead,” Boyd greeted him. “He was an alpha, I believe his name was Ennis.”

Derek nodded. “Who called for the surrender?”

“The second in command.” Boyd indicated a woman sitting on the ground between Jackson and Scott, a long, bloody streak torn across her face.

“She knows it’s unconditional?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then start disarming the remaining troops.”

Boyd nodded. “Should we keep the horses?”

“We might as well. Are there many injured?”

“Not on our side, and no deaths counted yet. The injured are gathering there.” Boyd pointed over to a scrubby tree with several soldiers clustered around the base. Derek went to retrieve his bag from the rock he had hidden it under before the battle began before heading over to the knot of injured werewolves.

“Does everyone have enough wolfsbane?” Derek asked, crouching at the edge of the group. The soldiers nearest to him looked fine, all in various stages of burning wolfsbane and grimacing as they packed it into their wounds and waiting for the poison to drain out.

“Nothing is working for Marla,” someone called out from further away.

Derek got up and moved closer to the soldier who had spoken, who was supporting a panting, pale-faced woman with jet black hair and a stab wound in her shoulder. “What kinds have you tried?” Derek asked.

“Blue climbing and trailing white. Meaghan went to see if she could find any southern blue.”

Derek nodded. “We think they might have started using purple flame.” He opened his bag and pulled out the box of purple flame flowers he had packed. “These haven’t really been dried properly, but they should work regardless.” Derek measured Marla’s wound with his eyes while he plucked a scant handful of petals off of the flowers. “You have a match?” he looked up at Marla’s companion.

“Yeah, right here.”

“Light ‘em up.” Derek held out his handful of petals.

Marla’s friend looked confused and then startled before stuttering out, “Okay,” and striking his match over Derek’s hand. Derek watched the petals flare up into ash before looking back at Marla. “You ready?” he asked.

Marla nodded, clenching her teeth, and Derek rubbed the ashes into her shoulder. He kept his hand there to pull out the blaze of pain that raced through her as the wolfsbane did it’s work. “I think that did it,” Derek said as he slowly moved his hand away.

Marla and her friend both stared down at her shoulder for a long moment before looking back up at Derek.

“Thank you so much, your Majesty,” Marla breathed.

“You’re welcome.” Derek fussed with the placement of the purple flame flowers in their box to avoid looking at their awed faced. “Any more injuries?”

“No, that was my only one.”

“Very well.” Derek gave a short nod before looking back up. “Try to get some rest, we’ll be heading back in the morning.”

They nodded, and Derek stood up to assist anyone else who needed help. Luckily, no one else seemed to have been injured with the purple flame wolfsbane. Derek figured the Teufels simply hadn’t had enough time to infuse many of their weapons with the new shipment of flowers before heading out on their ill-fated journey.

The people of Ironton sent a representative to invite the army to eat in the village, which everyone was very grateful for. No one had been looking forward to more jerky and waybread after the hard run to get to Ironton and the battle to defend it, short though it may have been.

* * *

The army was up at dawn the next morning, eager to return to camp with prisoners and good news. They tied the prisoners to their horses and started the trek home. They went by the road this time since they had horses, so while the way back was easier than the way there had been, it was also longer, so Derek sent a messenger back the way they had come to deliver the news of their victory. They were obliged to make camp on the road, and it was late afternoon the next day before the camp finally came into view. Derek made a relieved sound as it did and quickened his pace into a run.

Erica was waiting at the gate, and she pulled him into a quick hug as he passed. “Nadya said you had captured the majority of the force, but I didn’t quite believe her until now.” Erica looked over the veritable herd of horses making their way up to the camp.

Derek grunted and Erica laughed at him. “Go on then, grumpy, make your reports and go to bed. I’ve got a man to welcome home.” Erica’s grin widened as she caught sight of Boyd.

Derek left her to it and made his way to Peter’s tent, where he gave his uncle a rundown of the past few days and shunted off the responsibility of the prisoners and the horses to Peter. Peter’s eyes were gleaming as he walked out of his tent with Derek before heading down to the front of the camp to deal with their new additions.

Derek trudged his way back to his tent, dreading the sheaves of dried wolfsbane he still had to clean up from the morning before he left. He stopped outside his tent flaps for a moment, all but pouting and kicking the dirt, before rolling his neck and marching inside. Where his tent was very clean. And very free of wolfsbane. Derek frowned and scented the air deeply. Stiles had been there recently, and a smile tugged at Derek’s lips as he made his way over to his wolfsbane chest, where he found the boxes neatly replenished.

He hung up his weapons on the rack in the corner of his tent and stripped off his armour before burrowing into his bed of furs, relief washing over him at the familiar smells and the sounds of his soldiers getting re-settled and shouting greeting to each other from outside as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Derek woke at dusk to the smell of cooking meat tickling his nose. He got up and threw on some clothes before wandering out to see who was cooking. He found Danny and Nitya hovering over a roasting boar.

“Commander Hale,” Danny grinned. “Are you hungry? The boar is nearly finished.”

Derek nodded and stepped forward. “Did you go out hunting today?”

“Yeah, Jackson and Abdul helped me take this thing down.”

“Good.” Derek took a seat on one of the logs scattered around the fire. “I could eat the whole thing.”

Danny chuckled. “You’d have to fight Nitya for it, she said the same thing.”

Derek raised an eyebrow at Nitya, who shrugged. “I’m sure we could just split it in half.”

“I accept that compromise,” Derek smirked.

“And leave nothing for those of us who actually caught it?” Abdul asked as he walked up, setting down a basket of mushrooms.

“You can have one of the horses we brought back.”

“Cook your own horse.” Jackson followed Abdul with a basket of chokeberries.

“Have you been foraging all day?” Derek asked.

“I think Erica wanted something special to welcome Boyd home with,” Danny said.

“It looks like she’s getting it. Where is she, anyways?”

Jackson smirked. “I think she’s welcoming Boyd home in a more traditional way, first.”

“Of course,” Derek sighed. “Have any of you seen Isaac?”

“I think he and Allison are busy reuniting,” Nitya said.

“I don’t know why I expected anything different.”

“You want to slice some mushrooms?” Abdul offered Derek a knife.

“I might as well.” Derek knelt down next to Abdul and got to work.

By the time all the food was finished, in was completely dark. Liam had arrived with torches, and the whole area was bathed in warm firelight. Boyd and Erica, Isaac and Allison, Scott and Kira, and all the other couples who had been separated had emerged from their tents, smelling like each other and sporting big smiles.

The food was good, and Derek let the conversations surrounding him wash comfortably over him as he chewed and stared into the flames. Erica and Boyd had settled on one side of him, and Danny and Jackson were on the other. The flirting on either side was nigh on suffocating, but it was good to see everyone so happy. He spotted Stiles across the fire, squished in next to Scott and Kira who could barely stop kissing long enough to eat. They high-tailed it away from the fire as soon as they were finished eating, leaving sitting by himself. Derek shoveled the last few bites of his own dinner into his mouth before heading over to sit next to Stiles.

“Commander Hale,” Stiles said, looking startled at Derek’s choice of seat.

“Stiles,” Derek nodded. “You cleaned up my tent while I was gone.”

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles stared down at his bowl, where he was scraping his spoon rhythmically across the bottom. “I hope you don’t mind? I just thought it would probably be pretty unpleasant to come back to a room full of poison after you’d been away fighting.”

“You thought right; I wanted to say thank you.”

“Oh.” Stiles’ scent fizzed with surprise. “Uh, you’re welcome.”

Derek rubbed his hands over his thighs. “Okay. Have a good night, Stiles.” Derek stood up to head back to his tent.

“Right, thanks, uh, goodnight, Commander.”

Derek nodded again and made his way out of the thinning dinner crowd.

* * *

The campaign wore on day by day, each camp deeply entrenched and unwilling to commit to more than minor skirmishes. The loss of such a large chunk of their cavalry made the Teufel army at once much more cautious and much less intimidating to Derek’s soldiers, who were almost entirely on foot. Stiles reports began to gradually replace Morrell’s until Derek barely ever heard anything from the older spymaster. Not that Derek was complaining -- Stiles’ reports had more of the day-to-day details Derek was interested in, and were especially good at keeping up with the ever-changing arsenal of wolfsbane that would inevitably end up under Derek and his soldiers’ skin sooner than later.

Derek looked up from the map he was pondering when rapid footsteps approaching his tent caught his attention. He stared at the closed tent flaps and waited to see if the footsteps were for him or just passing by.

“Commander,” came Stiles voice, laced with urgency, and Derek was up and sweeping the tent flaps open before Stiles had the time to come to a full stop.

“What is it?” Derek tugged Stiles inside with a grip on his elbow.

“The division that moved to the west yesterday has started to advance, and they’re outfitted for battle.”

Derek growled low under his breath and moved to put his head outside the tent and let out a short howl for his captains. “Now which division, and where are they moving.” Derek stalked back around Stiles to his map, which was spread over the table with clusters of pins to mark the location of every known force.

“This one,” Stiles pointed to a pin a little ways removed from the main Teufel force. “And they seem to be moving around north to target the supply chain.”

“Of course they are.”

Isaac was the first to slip into the tent, and Derek waved him over while he asked, “Where are they now?”

“About… here was the last known location.”

Derek moved the pin to the spot Stiles was pointing to. “Does Peter know?”

“Morrell went to tell him.”

“Then I’d expect him to call at any moment.”

Erica strode into the tent then, Boyd on her heels. “What’s going on?” she asked, folding her arms.

“A Teufel force is on the move, and it looks like an attack on the supply chain.”

“And we’re going out to stop them?” Boyd asked.

“Peter hasn’t called yet, but I’m sure we will.”

Erica nodded, forehead creased.

“Boyd and Isaac,” Derek said, looking at the two in question, “I want you to go together to head them off before they get to the wagons. Stay out of sight until you hear my signal. Erica, you and I will take your force around to the south and attack from the rear once they’ve engaged with Boyd and Isaac.” He looked around and his captains all nodded back to him. “Stiles,” he turned to look at Stiles, “anything to add?”

“Umm,” Stiles squinted and looked down.

“Out with it,” Derek growled, “we don’t have much time.”

“Well, it’s just that you probably shouldn’t give a signal to Boyd and Isaac, or they’ll be able to hear that someone is coming up behind.”

Derek frowned and nodded. “We’ll borrow Liam from Isaac. I’ll send him back to camp and he can give a signal when he gets there.”

Peter’s howl cut through the air before anyone could say anything else. “Come on,” Derek led the way out of his tent, “let’s see what he has to say.”

“Nephew,” Peter greeted when Derek swept into the general’s tent. “I understand Stiles was sent to tell you of the attack? Ah, and you’ve brought your captains along, very well. Then you’ve already guessed I’m sending you out to deal with these,” Peter paused for a moment, mouth pursed, “pesky intruders.”

“We’re prepared to start marshalling our forces,” Derek said.

“Then don’t let me keep you,” Peter smiled. “Stiles here can stay behind and tell me your plans while you go about your business. I’ll send him to you if I have any suggestions.”

Derek’s frown deepened, and on impulse he reached up to rub an open palm down the side of Stiles’ neck as he turned to leave. He ignored Stiles’ startled gasp and Peter’s chuckle from behind him as he pushed back out into the camp, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd hot on his heels.

“Someone’s feeling a little possessive, hm?” Erica smirked, knocking her forearm into Derek’s bicep.

Derek growled and flashed his eyes at her in response, but she just laughed. “Come on, Alpha, we’ve got troops to rally.”

The next several minutes were a whirlwind of activity and noise as Derek and his captains sounded the alarm and Derek’s soldiers rushed to ready themselves for battle. Stiles reappeared at Derek’s side after a short time, and Derek pulled him back into his tent to help him get his armour on.

“Here,” he shoved his greaves and cuisses into Stiles’ chest.

“Okay, I’ll just, uh, yup,” Stiles mumbled before dropping into a crouch and started to fasten on Derek’s greaves while Derek pulled on his brigandine and shrugged into his pauldrons. He was lacing a vambrace with his teeth and opposite hand when Stiles, who had just started lacing the first cuisse up the inside of Derek’s thigh, stood up and said, “let me do that,” his heart beating fast and a blush staining his cheeks.

“Are you okay?” Derek frowned, relinquishing his forearm to Stiles.

“Yup,” Stiles chirped as his long fingers worked the laces on Derek’s vambrace, “I’m fine. Peachy, even, I’d say. Are you okay? That’s the question we should be asking here, you’re the one going into battle, not me, I’m just going to be sitting here, waiting for you to get back and hoping no one that I care about is killed.” Stiles finally stopped to take a breath.

“Wow.” Derek could feel his eyebrows trying to crawl into his hairline.

“Great,” Stiles muttered, pulling Derek’s other vambrace out of his hand and starting to lace it up his other forearm. “Now that we’ve got that all out in the open…”

Derek waited for Stiles to finish lacing his vambrace, then took him by the shoulders. “Stiles, we’ve done this many times before. Odds are, they’re going to see us there and call a retreat. The attack they’ve planned just doesn’t work when it’s not a surprise.”

Stiles sighed. “I know that. But it doesn’t change the risk.”

Derek heard Boyd calling for him outside. “I’ve got to hurry.” He bent to finish lacing up his cuisses. “Can you get me my boar spear and my sword belt?” Derek pointed to the weapon rack in the corner of his tent.

Stiles was back to hand Derek his weapons when he stood up again. Derek strapped on his helmet and his sword belt before taking the spear from Stiles.

“Try not to worry so much,” Derek said as he pushed his way out the tent flaps, “we’ll be back before you know it.”

“Oh, of course, like it's just that easy,” Derek heard Stiles mutter as he jogged away. Derek found Erica and her division gathering just outside the gate. He adjusted his armour while they waited for the whole division to assemble.

“There,” that should be the last of them,” Erica said as she watched a group of stragglers jog out to join them.

“Good.” Derek took a deep breath and grinned at Erica. “Let's go hunting.”

Derek took off running. Erica gave a surprised laugh and leaped after him, their soldiers streaming after her.

* * *

Derek stumbled his way to his tent and sank down onto his furs with a low groan. He had just begun to peel off his ruined shoulder guards, wincing and hissing when he raised his right shoulder as icy shards of pain raced through him, when a voice called out “Commander, new intelligence report,” from outside. He growled and yanked off the guards with a single motion that left his vision graying out from the pain. He ducked his head and concentrated on breathing until his head stopped spinning, then got up to open his tent flaps. Stiles was standing there, a sheaf of papers in hand. Derek ushered him inside with a flick of his wrist.

“You look terrible,” Stiles frowned while Derek busied himself with tying the tent flaps shut.

Derek grunted and stomped past him back to his bed, where he leaned over with a muffled groan to start unfastening his greaves.

Stiles made a tsking noise and crouched down to swat Derek’s hands away. “Let me do that, sit up and stop putting pressure on your broken ribs. You can’t go puncturing a lung.”

“Fine,” Derek snapped, sitting up and reminding himself to keep breathing through the pain. “Where’s your report?” he asked once his ribs weren’t aching so sharply anymore.

“Here.” Stiles tapped the stack of papers against Derek’s forearm. “You can entertain yourself while I patch you up.”

“You were not a healer the last time I checked,” Derek growled from behind the report.

“Yeah, lucky for you, you’re a werewolf so I don’t have to know too much.”

Derek didn't have the energy to argue, so he just grunted and did his best to read Stiles’ report while the letters were sliding all over the page.

Stiles coaxed Derek into standing up and sitting down a couple more times before he got Derek down to his small clothes, Derek too tired to protest. Stiles pulled his report out of Derek’s hands to lay next to his feet on the ground.

“Stiles, I was trying to read that.” Derek made a half-hearted swipe at the papers as Stiles pulled them away.

“If you haven't finished it by now, you can read the rest in the morning after you've had some sleep. I'm sure you won't remember a thing from tonight even if you do manage to finish the whole thing.” Stiles stood up and bent over Derek, grabbing the hem of his undershirt. “Now, I need to get this off of you so I can burn the wolfsbane out of your shoulder and do something about your ribs.”

Derek looked down and thought about moving his mangled shoulder again. “The shirt’s already ruined,” he decided, sprouting claws to rip the rest of the shirt off of his body.

“Okay,” Stiles looked taken aback, “that works too.” He spun around to start rifling through Derek’s wolfsbane supply. “As far as I know, they were using climbing blue monkshood and yellow aconite on their weapons. Did you notice anything else?”

Derek shrugged with his one good shoulder. “Nothing to make me think anything else.”

“Great.” Stiles turned back around with a handful of both varieties of dried petals. “What are the problem areas? Obviously the shoulder, the gash on your leg here, and the hole in your arm; anywhere else?”

“Got a nick on the back of my neck,” Derek said, reaching up to touch the spot.

“Okay, let's do that one first.” Stiles set down his handful of petals on the table and plucked one blue and one yellow petal from the pile. He struck a match from the box Derek kept on the table and set the petals aflame for a brief second before they curled into hot ash in Stiles’ palm. “Alright, here we go.” Stiles threaded his hand through Derek’s hair and used the grip to gently tilt Derek’s head forward. Derek tensed at the motion, which read incredibly dominating to his wolf mind, then shivered as Stiles’ palm dragged over the back of his neck. There was a sting of pain as the wolfsbane ashes were rubbed into his cut, then the rush of hot and cold as the wolfsbane bled out of his system, followed finally by the familiar itch of healing flesh.

“Good,” Stiles voice sounded warm and pleased as he stroked his thumb over newly-healed skin, “it worked.”

Derek grunted and Stiles slipped his hand out of Derek’s hair.

“Okay,” he turned to scoop up the majority of the petals left, “let's get that shoulder before it spreads any closer to your heart.”

Derek took some deep breaths while Stiles burned the petals. “Ready?” Stiles asked, clamping his free hand down on the crook of Derek’s uninjured shoulder. Derek nodded, gritting his teeth as Stiles took a deep breath of his own before smearing the ashes over the torn flesh. Derek grit his teeth and tried not to make too much noise while Stiles pushed the ash into the wound.

After a long moment, the pain started to recede, and Derek opened his eyes to Stiles’ determined face fixed on his shoulder. Stiles’ eyes flickered over to Derek’s, and he gave a tight smile. “Breath for me, Derek, it looks like it’s closing up just fine.”

Derek gulped in a breath, and then another and another until he felt like he was breathing too fast to take a breath.

“Whoa, buddy, calm down.” Stiles swept his hands up to cradle Derek’s jaw, then moved one hand back to thread through Derek’s hair and pull his face into Stiles’ neck. “I’ve got you, okay?” Stiles murmured into Derek’s ear while Derek clutched at Stiles’ waist with hands tipped with claws. “Take it easy, now, you’re safe and you’re healing.”

The truth of Stiles’ words echoed through Derek’s head while his brain finally recognized that the burning, pinching, and pulling in his shoulder was the broken structure knitting itself back together now that the wolfsbane was out of the way.

“There, see?” Derek could feel the edge of Stiles’ smile against his temple. “All closed up. I swear, it’s like your healing kicks into another gear after a wolfsbane episode.”

Derek could still feel tendon and bone settling against each other, but when he looked down he saw that Stiles was right. The skin had already healed and looked as good as new.

“Okay.” Stiles pulled back after another moment, though he kept his hands on Derek to steady him. “Two wounds down, two to go. You ready to take care of your leg?”

Derek nodded and pulled his hands back to knot them in his furs. He did his best not to tip over when Stiles let go of him to sweep the last of the petals on the table into his palm.

“If you need to fall over, just fall backwards,” Stiles grinned as he struck another match. His strong fingers grabbed Derek’s thigh next and held the gash there open with one hand while he rubbed the ash in thoroughly with the other. Derek made a high, pathetic whine and fought against the instinct to curl into a fetal position or to throw Stiles across his tent or both.

“There it goes,” Stiles said as Derek’s thigh began to stitch itself together. “Just one more left.” He stood and turned back to the chest to gather a few more petals.

Derek did fall backwards after Stiles rubbed the last of the ash into his arm, clutching at his bedding and letting out the groaning howl that had been building behind his teeth since he had taken the mace to his shoulder.

“That’s it,” Stiles sighed, standing up and heading to the front of the tent. “Now let’s get you cleaned up.” He returned a moment later with a bowl of water and a cloth, which he set in his lap after he crawled into the nest of furs next to Derek. Derek did his best not to doze off while Stiles wiped blood, sweat and wolfsbane residue off of his body. There was still a constant pulling and grinding sensation in his shoulder as the joint remade itself, but it was mere background noise in the wake of the pain Derek had been in earlier.

Footsteps sounded outside the tent, and Derek pushed himself up to his elbows in time to acknowledge Erica as she slipped inside, her left shin shiney with newly healed skin. “Everything all right in here?” she asked.

“Fine,” Derek grunted before wincing as he flopped back down flat on his back.

“We got rid of all the wolfsbane,” Stiles said as he wrung the cloth out over his bowl. “He should be right as rain after a good night’s sleep.”

Derek gave a pleased murmur as Stiles wiped the cloth over his face.

“Okay,” Erica gave a faint smile and clutched at the nearest tent pole to keep herself upright as she swayed. “I’m going home, I could sleep for a week. He’s your responsibility now,” she pointed at Stiles, “so don’t fuck this up.”

“I think I can handle rolling a sleepy werewolf under the covers.”

Erica made a dismissive noise and limped her way back out of the tent. Stiles went back to wiping Derek’s face and Derek shut his eyes, content to just lay there and let Stiles do all the work.

After a while, Stiles got up to dump the water outside the tent and put everything away. He mumbled to himself about reckless werewolves and where were they supposed to find enough armour to keep everyone clothed at this rate as he cleaned up, and Derek felt a smile tugging at his lips. He blinked his eyes open when he felt a weight settle next to him again and a hand alight on his shoulder.

“Hey, big guy,” Stiles said, “did you ever eat after getting back?”

Derek grunted and shut his eyes again.

Stiles sighed. “I’m taking that for a no. You sit tight,” Stiles patted Derek’s chest, “and I’ll be back in a bit.”

Derek dozed off while Stiles was gone, waking up again to the smell of cooked meat.

“Lucky for you,” Stiles said as he set a bowl down on the table, “Boyd was willing to share his stew.”

Derek grumbled in his throat and closed his eyes.

“Don’t give me any of that. You regrew way too much flesh tonight to get by with skipping dinner.”

Strong hands gripped Derek’s upper arms and pulled him upright. Derek whimpered as the newly grown tendons in his shoulder pulled.

“Sorry,” Stiles stroked a hand over Derek’s shoulder. “You still putting things to rights in there?”

Derek adjusted himself to sit more comfortably while Stiles turned to grab the bowl off the table.

“You think you can hold this yourself?”

Derek grabbed the bowl with a frown and stared at it for a moment.

“Okay,” Stiles sounded like he was holding back a smile. “Let’s try this again.” Stiles put his hands on top of Derek’s and pushed the bowl down to rest in Derek’s lap. He wrapped one of Derek’s hands around the bowl and curled the other around the spoon.

Derek allowed that that worked better than what he had been aiming for and started eating.

Stiles handed him a cup of water once he had cleaned out the bowl, then set all the dishes on the table. “You need anything else?” Stiles asked from his crouch at Derek’s feet.

Derek shook his head.

“Alright, let’s get you in bed.” Stiles stood up and held out both his hands. Derek took them and let himself be pulled to his feet, where he swayed forwards and ran his nose up the side of Stiles’ face. Stiles laughed as he steadied Derek with a hand on his chest. “Hello to you, too. Now try to stay standing for a minute.” Stiles carefully let go of Derek before bending down to rearrange Derek’s furs into some semblance of order. He stood back up when he was finished and guided Derek back down with a gentle hand around each elbow. Derek sank back onto his bed with a sigh.

“There.” Stiles nudged Derek to the side, and Derek obediently laid down, folding his legs up and getting comfortable. “Now get some rest,” Stiles gently squeezed Derek’s shoulder. “I’m coming back to check on you in the morning.”

“You don’t have to,” Derek murmured.

“I know, mighty alpha Derek,” Stiles grinned. “I want to anyways.”

“Okay,” Derek sighed, burying his face in his bedding.

“Sleep well.” Stiles left with a final brush of his fingers over Derek’s shoulders, and Derek was asleep before Stiles’ footsteps faded from sound.

* * *

Derek was awake and thinking about untangling himself from his furs when Stiles slipped inside the next morning.

“Commander,” he greeted, “feeling any better this morning?”

Derek frowned and pushed himself into a sitting position. “You can call me Derek, you know.”

Stiles froze in place. “Um, what?”

“Erica and Boyd and Isaac all do, you know.” Derek twisted his fingers into the bear fur draped over his knees.

“I, uh, I didn’t realize I was on the same level as them, I guess.”

Derek shrugged. “I think spymaster ranks about the same as captain.”

“Oh.”

“And,” Derek took a deep breath, “I think putting me to bed probably also puts us on first name basis.”

“That’s what does it, hm?” Stiles smirked, and Derek’s ears heated with a blush as he belatedly realized the innuendo. “But all joking aside,” Stiles continued, prompting Derek to look up at him, “I’d be honored, Derek. Now,” Stiles came forward to crouch next to Derek’s nest of furs, “how’s the shoulder coming along?”

* * *

After that Stiles made it something of a routine to meet Derek at his tent and fuss over him while Derek read his latest report. Derek would have protested, but it was nice to feel taken care of for once. And of course that just lead to a whole different line of thought wherein Stiles took on a very particular role that Derek should never have even considered, but Derek was lonely, if he was honest. He had friends, of course, and more than enough to keep him busy with his unit, but Isaac had Allison and Erica and Boyd had each other, and Derek was a werewolf, he was never meant to go it alone. Stiles seemed just as aimless as he was, so they made a good pair for that reason, if for no other.

That was what Derek told himself, anyways. If he happened to think about all the ways they fit together right before he fell asleep every night, that was no one’s business but his own. It was a destructive line of thinking, anyways; he was a prince in a royal family that was laughably small. He would marry for duty, he already knew, never for love. Laura had already brought the beginnings of a marriage treaty to him twice before. Just because both of those had stalled during negotiations didn’t mean the inevitable next one wouldn’t go through.

But knowing an idea was destructive hadn’t ever stopped Derek before.

“Hey, Derek,” chirped Stiles’ voice as Derek walked out of the training ring, wiping his sweaty face on his shirt.

“Stiles,” Derek nodded, turning to watch Boyd school Scott with a jian.

“You and Erica put on a show.” Stiles stepped up to stand next to Derek.

Derek hummed. “She’s one of the only ones who can still give me a run for my money with a boar spear.”

“Even more than Boyd?”

Derek smirked. For all that Boyd may be the best hand in the army with a sword, that skill didn’t translate to pole weapons. “Not his strong point,” he said.

Stiles laughed, and Derek turned to watch the stretch of his throat as he threw his head back. Derek snapped his head back around at the sound of a sword flying free of a hand, but it stuck harmlessly in the ground a few feet away from where Scott had fallen in the opposite direction.

Stiles clucked his tongue and shook his head. “He’s got to stop overextending like that. He’s gonna get himself killed like that one of these days.”

“With all the time he spends with Kira, you’d think he’d be a better swordsman,” Derek agreed.

“Well, I don’t think they’re so worried about swordplay so much as putting the sword away, if you catch my meaning.” Stiles gave an exaggerated wink, and Derek couldn’t help the chuckle that spilled out of his throat. A burst of satisfaction bloomed through Stiles’ scent, and Derek glanced over in time to see a big grin stretched across Stiles’ face. “I knew you had a sense of humor hiding away in there somewhere.”

Derek shrugged and looked back towards the ring, where Malia and Mason were facing each other without a weapon in sight. Derek made a concerned sound in his throat and took half a step forward to put this impending disaster to a stop before it could begin when Isaac appeared at his side.

“Let them do it.” Isaac put a hand on Derek’s arm to hold him back. “She’s been working on her control, and he’s been working on his hand-to-hand skills. It’s good for both of them.”

“And if she slips up?” Derek raised his eyebrows in question.

“She won’t,” Isaac assured him, “she’s gotten better.” Derek’s eyebrows stayed firmly where they were. “And she’ll never know what she can do if she’s not allowed to try.” Isaac looked resolute, so Derek backed down with an unhappy rumble from his chest.

“As long as Mason knows what he’s getting into.”

“He does. Don’t worry so much, you’ve got to let them grow.” Isaac slipped away to stand closer to the skirmish, leaving Derek to stand tense and at the ready until Mason was finally pinned under Malia, who had miraculously not popped one claw the entire fight.

“Kids; they sure make you worry, don’t they?” Stiles bumped a forearm into Derek’s side, and Derek realized that he was still standing at the ready to leap into a fray.

“You’re barely older than them,” he snapped at Stiles. “Aren’t you the same age as Malia?”

“Eh, she lost a few years to the whole going feral problem. I don’t think that counts.”

Derek huffed, but that was probably true.

Kira dragged Danny into the ring next, her with her trademark katana, him with the short sword he favored. As two of the best sword fighters Derek had, they put on a much more balanced fight than Boyd and Scott did.

“Do you think you’re ready for the battle tomorrow?” Stiles asked in an undertone while Kira and Danny danced back and forth across the sparring ring.

Derek took a step closer to Stiles so he could speak more softly as he said, “I think we couldn’t be better prepared. We know they’ve split their forces, we know where all of their units are, and we know what kind of poison they’ve put on their weapons.” Derek glanced meaningfully at Stiles, who preened a little under the praise. “But,” Derek continued, even more quiet, “the wisdom of launching such an attack on their main force, even depleted as it is, remains to be seen.”

Stiles’ face twisted into a frown and he looked up at Derek with serious eyes. “I’m counting on you coming back to me, I hope you know.”

Derek felt giddy hearing those words, but he didn’t know what to say in response. “Well,” he managed after a minute, “you know I’d never leave you alone with Peter.”

Stiles chuckled, and the tension melted away as he looked away from Derek and back towards the ring, where someone must have been disarmed based on the shivering sound of flying metal and the laughter from the crowd. Derek kept his eyes on Stiles as Stiles said, “yeah, I guess I can always count on that.”

* * *

The battle the next day went both better and worse than Derek had imagined. Better, because they had gotten within a bowshot by the time they were spotted, giving Derek more time than he had ever dreamed of having to lay waste to the main campsite and burn their supplies before he sounded the retreat. Worse, because when he turned back after giving the howl, he was met with a spear that ripped straight through his stomach.

Derek fell to his knees, clawing at the spear shaft for a moment of insensate agony before he came back to himself and yanked both the shaft farther through his guts and the human still gripping the other end of the spear close enough to reach out and slice through his throat with claw-tipped fingers.

The noise of the battle pulsated in Derek’s ears until he thought he’d go blind from it. He took two wheezing, painful breaths before he broke off the rest of the shaft in front of him and pulled the remains of the pole out through his back. He thought maybe he heard someone screaming his name, but as he looked up, he belatedly registered the stamp of running feet coming at him as he felt a new shock of pain burst to life at his temple. His vision swirled into a dizzying whirlpool of color as he crashed to his side, and everything became blessedly silent as he curled into himself and changed.

His new form launched itself at his attacker, not so easily crippled by a gut wound and a cracked skull as the human version. He messily chewed out the throat of his second attacker, then shot towards the safety of the woods. He jogged away from the terrible sounds of battle: the clashing of swords and the howls of the wounded, the stench of death that seeped down into the ground. He wasn’t able to get too far away, stomach cramping and spasming with pain. His skull had already begun to mend itself, but the hole in his gut needed treatment for the wolfsbane or it would kill him in short order.

Derek collapsed to the ground and, after a few unsuccessful attempts, stretched out into his human form. He had lost his clothes while wolf-shaped, of course, but the pouch of wolfsbane and flint around his neck had stayed. Derek yanked it off and fumbled the pouch open, wolfsbane petals spilling over his lap as he searched for the flint. When he had finally gotten ahold of the flint, he scraped the dirt next to himself free of fallen leaves and poured the wolfsbane petals into the cleared space. He picked up a stone and began to strike the flint against it. It took a few tries, but eventually Derek got a big enough shower of sparks on the flower petals for the whole pile to burn up. He scraped the ashes into his fists, then laid down and took some gasping breaths in an attempt to prepare himself for the pain before packing the ash into the his wound. He grit his teeth and groaned long and low while the magic of the wolfsbane ash took effect. As much as it may hurt, he couldn’t afford to draw any attention to himself like this.

The worst of the pain subsided after a long moment and Derek slumped back into the leaf-covered ground. He could feel the familiar sensation of his insides stitching themselves back together, and he quickly fell deeply asleep to the soothing feeling of his body putting itself to rights.

Derek woke up later on to a voice saying, “oh thank god I found you.” Running footsteps vibrated up into Derek from the ground as the voice continued, “and this better not be your corpse I’m finding, or I’ll be so angry you’ll hear about it in the afterlife.” Then Derek was being rolled onto his back, and he blinked up at Stiles’ frowning face.

“Oh my god, I cannot believe you,” Stiles nearly yelled through clenched teeth before gathering Derek up in his arms and rocking back and forth a few times.

“Are you still hurt?” Stiles asked suddenly, pushing Derek back to the ground and fluttering his hands over Derek’s chest and torso. He grimaced at the trails of blood running down Derek’s legs. “They told me you were stabbed in the heart.”

“Not the heart,” Derek groaned, voice rusty. “Just the stomach.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Stiles grimaced. “But it wasn’t wolfsbane?”

“I had my necklace.”

“‘Course you did.” Stiles’ voice sounded choked up, but Derek’s eyes had drifted shut again, and all of his senses felt dim and smudged. “I know I’ve made fun of you before for being a paranoid bastard, but god am I glad you are now.”

“I’m always telling all of you,” Derek grumbled, “what could it hurt to be prepared.”

“Yeah, and you went to some great lengths to prove that to us today.” Stiles’ hand settled on Derek’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “Before you fall asleep on me, I need you to sound the alarm. I cannot carry you all the way back home.”

“Who else is out here?” Derek squinted his eyes open.

“Who do you think? Boyd, Erica, Isaac, Jackson, Malia, Liam, Roza, Abdul, Nitya; your whole damn duchy wanted to be out here looking for you.”

Derek hummed and tried to sit up from his sprawl on the ground.

Stiles snorted and asked, “what exactly are we trying to do here?”

“Sit up,” Derek growled.

“Yeah, how about some help with that.” Stiles scooped his arm under Derek’s shoulders and eased him upright. “Better? A good howling position?” Stiles smirked.

Derek tilted his head away from Stiles and let out a reedy, wavering howl in response.

“That’ll bring them running.” Stiles shifted his grip on Derek, cradling him into his body. Derek let his eyes slip shut again and nuzzled his nose into Stiles’ neck. Next thing he knew, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and startled him awake.

“Derek,” Boyd breathed, pulling Derek away from Stiles and into a crushing hug. Erica was there a moment later to pull him into her own arms, and then Isaac was crowding his other side, the other soldiers clustering around the pile Derek and his captains made on the ground. Derek worked an arm free from Erica’s iron grip to hold out to them, and then they were on him too. It settled something very animal in Derek’s chest to be covered with friends and packmates so completely.

Stiles chuckled from the fringe of the heap. “Come on, guys, we need to get him home.”

“No,” Derek grumbled in his throat. Erica snorted into his hair and squeezed him a little tighter before letting go and getting up with the others. Someone wrapped him in a blanket and Boyd scooped him into his strong arms. Derek fell asleep again in short order to the steady rhythm of Boyd’s footsteps.

He woke up a few times on the way back as he was passed between people, first from Boyd to Jackson, then Jackson to Nitya, then Nitya back to Boyd, then Boyd to a table inside a tent that smelled like camp-pack-home. Boyd tugged the blanket out of Derek’s clutching grip and Derek growled at him.

“Hey,” Erica tapped her knuckles against Derek’s forehead. “I know you’re a terrible patient, but let’s make an attempt just this once since you’ve nearly died.”

Derek growled at her, too, on principle, but she just grinned at him and ducked down to rub her cheek against his. “I thought I’d never see this growley face again,” she whispered in his ear.

“Can’t get rid of me that easy.” Derek reached a clumsy hand up to squeeze the forearm Erica had splayed across Derek’s chest.

Erica stood up as the tent flaps swished open and Lydia marched inside. “You’ve certainly given everyone a scare, Commander,” she sniffed as she set down the box she was carrying next to Derek’s hip. “Stiles tells me you were stabbed in the stomach, was it?”

“Yeah,” Derek nodded.

“With what?” Lydia asked as she opened her box and started shuffling things around inside.

“Wolfsbane spear.”

Lydia stopped her shuffling. “How deep did it go?”

“All the way through.”

“And how did you treat the wolfsbane?”

“I carry some with me all the time.”

“So you burned some wolfsbane and shoved it inside your mortal wound in the middle of a battlefield, then shifted and ran into the woods?”

“No, I ran into the woods first.”

Lydia sighed deeply. “Okay. Start over. Tell me exactly what happened, starting from when you were impaled.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I got stabbed, I killed him, I pulled out the spear and took a mace to the head, I shifted and killed… whoever that was, then I ran into the woods, then I burned some wolfsbane and shoved it into my mortal wound.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow when Derek didn’t continue. “And then what? You sat there and waited to be rescued?”

“And I fell asleep because they took so long,” Derek snapped.

“Very well, let’s take a look at that head of yours first.” Lydia snapped her box shut and walked around the table to stand by Derek’s head. She set firm fingers on Derek’s face, tilting him this way and that. “No visible damage,” she mused. “Where did it hit you?”

Derek tapped his temple and Lydia prodded at the spot before pushing on it hard. “Any pain?” she asked. “Feel anything shifting?”

“No.”

“Good. Erica,” she turned to the werewolf standing next to her, “can you smell any wolfsbane poisoning in the area?”

Erica leaned down to press her nose against Derek’s temple and take a deep inhale. “Nothing here. But I think there might be some in his back still.”

“Alright. Lydia walked back around to Derek’s side. “Where were you stabbed? Right about here?” Lydia rubbed over the livid pink scar tissue still showing on Derek’s torso.

Derek nodded.

“It’s healing fine from this side,” Lydia said after examining Derek for a moment. “Boyd, any wolfsbane here?”

Boyd leaned over and took a deep breath. “Not right here, but somewhere.”

“Then turn him over, let’s see the infection.”

Derek turned himself over, thanks very much Lydia, with only a little help from Boyd.

“And here we see the problem with battlefield treatment,” Lydia sighed. Derek was about to ask if she’d rather he left it so she could resuscitate his corpse when Lydia pressed into the wound and the low-grade ache he’d been feeling flared up into violent pain. He must have started moving, because Erica and Boyd’s hands were on him suddenly, holding him down. Lydia had started mixing something, the wet sound of her stirring the only other noise in the tent besides his own harsh breathing.

“Alright,” Lydia’s voice finally broke the silence, “this is going to hurt a lot, so please get a good grip.” Erica and Boyd both tightened their hold, and Lydia scooped her mixture into what must have been a good-sized hole in Derek’s back judging purely from the way it lit up with agony. A screaming howl tore from Derek’s throat while Lydia rubbed her concoction in. Erica pressed her face to Derek’s shoulder and made wordless soothing noises into his ear.

“There, that looks like it’s done it,’ Lydia said after several long moments. Derek let out a hoarse noise of relief while Lydia dressed his wound. Consciousness was quickly slipping out of Derek’s grip, and he gave up on staying awake long before Lydia was finished.

* * *

Derek was alone when he woke up again, lying facedown in his own pile of furs. The first thing he did was to reach behind himself and feel his back. The bandage was still there, but when he pressed on it, the flesh underneath was only a little tender. He laid still for another few minutes before his parched throat drove him to get up. Thankfully someone had filled his water basin, and he drank his fill before gingerly dressing himself in some old, loose-fitting clothes and sinking back down to sit in his furs. He had almost decided to go back to sleep when Stiles poked his head in the tent flaps.

“You’re awake!” Stiles grinned and slipped inside.

“For now,” Derek grunted.

“How are you feeling?” Stiles crouched down in front of Derek, setting a bag down next to himself. “Everything healing up alright?”

“As far as I can tell,” Derek shrugged.

“You want me to check your back for you?”

“Sure.” Derek shifted around until Stiles could see his back and pulled his shirt off. 

Stiles gently pulled the bandage away from the wound to peak at it. “Oh, good, it’s just about finished.” Stiles pressed the bandage down again and sat back so Derek could turn back around. “God, you have no idea how good it is to see you again.”

Derek grinned and ducked his head.

“Fuck, and you have no idea what that does to me.” Stiles slid a hand along Derek’s jaw to tilt his face up, and then there were lips pressing against Derek’s own -- there were _Stiles’_ lips pressing against Derek’s own. Derek was so shocked he froze, and Stiles pulled away.

“Uh, sorry,” Stiles said, rubbing at the back of his head and staring down at the ground. “That was, uh, definitely should have asked first and not just, you know, gone for --”

Derek cut Stiles off with his own mouth.

“Oh thank god,” Stiles slurred against Derek’s lips before wrapping strong arms around Derek and pulling their torsos flush together. Derek couldn’t stop the moan that bled out of his throat, and Stiles pulled away with a last, lingering kiss. “As much as I would love to continue this, and I cannot overstate how much I would _love_ to continue this, we’ve got to get some food in you.”

Derek licked his lips and watched Stiles’ mouth as it shaped words.

“You in there, big guy?” Stiles grinned, tipping Derek’s face up with a hand under his chin.

“Yeah, okay,” Derek said, looking up to meet Stiles’ eyes.

“Okay,” Stiles echoed, letting go of Derek. “So, I got you a few things to take the edge off that werewolf appetite of yours,” Stiles said as he opened the bag, placing each item inside next to Derek’s hip as he named them; “Some bread, dried venison, cheese, and, for our ailing prince,” Stiles waggled his eyebrows and Derek couldn’t contain his snort of laughter in response, “boiled eggs, salted fish, and some dried apples.”

Derek immediately reached for the eggs, which someone, Stiles, by the scent, had taken the time to peel like they were giving them to a child. Derek swallowed three before tearing into the venison. Stiles busied himself with folding the cheese into the bread, which he handed to Derek once he had eaten the last of the venison. Stiles fetched Derek more water while Derek took care of the bread-and-cheese and ate the last two eggs. He slowed down to savor the salted fish -- he knew they barely had any of this left, and it was one of his favorite things. He offered half of the apples to Stiles. Fruit was a very rare treat indeed.

“No, you go ahead,” Stiles waved off Derek’s offer. “I’m not the one who had a brush with death here.”

Derek relished each slice, then downed another cup of water when Stiles handed it to him.

“Are you still hungry?” Stiles asked as he took the empty cup back. “I can grab you something else if you need it.”

Derek shook his head. He was feeling tired again, even though he had just woken up.

Stiles smiled at him, reading his expression. “You can go to sleep again, no one is expecting you to do anything today. I think Erica, Boyd and Isaac can hold down the camp for another day.”

Derek nodded and collapsed back into his furs. Stiles grabbed his bag and made to stand up, but Derek reached out to grab his shirt and stop him. “Would you -- “ Derek started before licking his lips and changing tack. “Do you want to lay down with me?” Derek made fleeting eye contact before looking back at where his hand was fisted in Stiles’ shirt.

“Dude,” Stiles squeezed Derek’s wrist, “duh. Were you not here earlier when we had that amazing kiss?”

Stiles stood up again, and Derek loosened his hold to let him. Stiles kicked off his boots and dropped his outer clothes to the ground before climbing into the cocoon of Derek’s furs. Derek let himself be rolled around and arranged until Stiles settled with Derek draped over him like a blanket, Derek’s face pressed into the hollow of Stiles’ throat. Derek felt overwhelmingly safe there and he took greedy, shuddering breaths against Stiles’ skin, nearly drowning in the scent of him, while Stiles ran slow fingers through Derek’s hair and scratched gently at his scalp.

“Stiles,” Derek muttered several minutes later, hovering on the edge of sleep.

“Derek,” Stiles kissed Derek’s forehead.

“How did you find me so fast? Before all the werewolves.”

“Um,” Stiles’ hand tightened in Derek’s hair. “That would be because I’m kind of magic? A little bit?”

Derek heaved himself up to all fours over Stiles so he could look him in the face. “What?”

“Surprise,” Stiles smiled weakly, his hands fluttering over Derek’s shoulders.

“Why didn’t I know this already?” Peter would never have been able to keep a secret like that all to himself.

Stiles shrugged, his hands wandering down Derek’s arms to grip at his biceps. “Deaton thought it’d be best not to tell anyone. He says I’m a spark, but my magic is unreliable at best. I never know when I’ll be able use it or not.”

Derek nodded and eased himself back down. “Glad it worked yesterday.” Derek mumbled into Stiles’ collarbone.

“Me too, buddy, me too.” Stiles wrapped both arms around Derek’s shoulders and squeezed for a moment before going back to petting Derek’s hair.

* * *

Derek woke up to the sound of the tent flaps swishing shut.

“You awake over there?” Stiles murmured as he walked over to the bed.

Derek grunted and rubbed his face into his furs. He was hungry again, and he could smell that Stiles had brought more food with him.

Stiles chuckled and sat down next to Derek’s hip. “I figured you might be hungry again by now.”

“Yeah,” Derek sighed, stretching and rolling onto his side. “What did you bring?” he pawed at Stiles’ bag.

“More venison, bread, and cheese, and a couple more eggs.”

Derek pushed himself into a seated position and promptly went dizzy with a headrush. He squeezed his eyes shut and dug his fingers into the furs while he waited for it to pass.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter, what’s going on.” Stiles cupped his hands around Derek’s face.

“Nothing, it’s just a headrush.” Derek tipped his head onto Stiles’ shoulder since it was right there, sighing in satisfaction when Stiles wrapped his arms around him.

“Better?” Stiles smiled into Derek’s hair.

Derek rumbled in his throat and nuzzled his face into Stiles’ collarbone.

“Here, what if we layed down again.” Stiles kicked off his boots and twisted them around until Stiles was laying back and Derek was propped up against his chest. Derek curled himself into Stiles’ body, humming in satisfaction as he tucked his head up under Stiles’ chin.

“Is that good?” Stiles smiled, wrapping his arms around Derek and squeezing. “Here,” Stiles reached over to his bag and pulled out a piece of dried venison, holding it up to Derek’s mouth. Derek licked it out of his hand. “Oh holy god.” Arousal fizzed through Stiles’ scent, and Derek grinned to himself as he buried his face in Stiles’ chest while he chewed. Stiles rummaged through his bag again and came back with a piece of bread torn into a roughly bite-sized hunk.

They worked through the rest of the food Stiles had brought that way, and Derek was feeling profoundly content by the time they were finished.

“You know I can’t do this, right?” Derek mumbled into Stiles’ chest.

Stiles’ hand froze where it had been lazily carding through Derek’s hair. “Why not?”

“I’m a prince. Laura’s been looking for a marriage treaty for me ever since… ever since she came to power. I’m a bargaining chip, and she doesn’t have many of those left.”

Stiles sighed and pulled Derek tighter against himself. “I don’t care. If that happens, then it happens, but Laura’s been queen for six years Derek, so it doesn’t exactly seem imminent.”

Derek shrugged. “The war’s going well for now, there’s less need than there was before.”

“Then maybe there won’t ever be a need. Morrell and Peter have been talking about terms of surrender lately, I don’t know if this is going to drag on much longer.”

Derek made a dismissive sound. “Peter has been talking terms of surrender since the war started. I wouldn’t put any stock in that.”

“Maybe, but I doubt Morrell has ever joined him before. But that doesn’t matter. My point is, I want to be with you for however long I can be, okay? I’m kinda tired of the whole look, don’t touch thing we have going on here.”

“Okay.” Derek tucked his head up under Stiles’ chin.

“That was easier than I thought it would be,” Stiles chuckled.

“You’re not the only one tired of not touching.” Derek tightened the grip he had around Stiles’ waist.

* * *

Lydia was standing over Derek the next time he woke up, still curled into Stiles’ side. “This is new.” She arched a delicate eyebrow.

“It is,” Derek agreed, pointedly not moving since Stiles was still sound asleep.

“I won’t disturb your honeymoon for long, but I do need to check your wounds one last time to make sure everything closed up.”

Derek eased himself out of Stiles’ loose grip and sat up, stripping off his shirt.

“Does it still hurt?” Lydia asked as she crouched to examine the skin of his stomach. “Any itching or burning?”

“No, not any more.”

“Good. This side looks perfect.”

Derek laid back down on Stiles’ chest so Lydia could get to his back.

“And this is healing up nicely as well.” Derek could barely feel Lydia’s cold fingers as they stroked over his back, so the scar tissue must not have given way to skin yet. “Any problems eating, any stomach aches? I hear Stiles has been keeping you well fed.”

“No, no problems.”

“Good. You’re lucky you’re an alpha, Prince Hale, there aren’t many werewolves who could survive a festering infection like that for over a day.”

Derek shrugged; there wasn’t much he could do about the way he was born.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to your boy. Come and tell me right away if you’re having any trouble with eating or digestion, okay? Do not mess around with this.”

Derek nodded, and Lydia stood up to take her leave. “Oh, and Derek?” she turned around before reaching the tent flaps. “Don’t mess around with him, either. He’s crazy about you, so don’t break his heart.”

Derek growled at the impudence, and Lydia laughed as she swept out of Derek’s tent. Stiles roused at the noise. “What’s going on?” he rasped, rubbing at his eyes.

“Lydia was here,” Derek said darkly.

“Oh no, she didn’t say anything terrible, did she?”

“She told me not to break your heart.”

“Great,” Stiles rolled his eyes and slid his hands up Derek’s side. “Wait, when did you lose your clothes?”

“Lydia came to check up on me, the warning off was just a bonus after she saw us.”

“Oh.” Stiles frowned. “Uh, I hope you didn’t want to keep this secret?”

Derek snorted. “We live in a camp full of werewolves, Stiles, I don’t think that option was ever on the table.”

Stiles grinned. “You’re probably not wrong. How are you feeling? Did Lydia give you the stamp of approval?”

“Yeah, she said I looked fine.” Derek rolled to the edge of the bed to try and heave himself to his feet.

“Hey, calm down there, buddy.” Stiles hooked a firm arm around Derek’s waist before he could get off the bed. “You’re still recovering, let’s try doing things slowly and with help for a while.”

Derek growled while Stiles clambered around him. “Lydia said I was fine.”

“Uh huh. I wasn’t there, but I’d bet money she said that you were _healing_ fine, not that you were actually fine. Now come on,” Stiles held his hand down to Derek, “let’s get you up.”

“I can get up fine by myself,” Derek complained, but he took Stiles’ hands and let him pull him up anyways.

“Alright, what was the plan now that we’re standing up?”

“I want to go see Boyd and catch up on what’s been happening.”

“Okay. Let’s get your shirt back on before we go.”

“Feeling possessive?” Derek asked as he shrugged back into his shirt.

“Like you have any room to talk. You started scent marking me before I stopped calling you Commander Hale.”

Derek scowled. “That was to keep you _safe_ from _Peter_.”

“And I appreciated the gesture, he backed off very quickly after that,” Stiles grinned.

“No need to be so smug.” Derek shouldered his way around Stiles and stomped out of his tent.

“Aw, don’t be mad, babe,” Stiles laughed as he followed Derek.

“Don’t call me babe.” Derek turned and came face-to-face with a grinning Erica.

“Well,” she said, “I came to see if you were doing better, but I can already see that’s the case. How long has this been going on?”

“Since this morning,” Stiles beamed, sliding an arm around Derek’s waist.

“I was wondering what sort of a kick in the pants the two of you needed. Congratulations.” Erica rocked up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to Derek’s check. She did the same to Stiles, but hovered next to his ear long enough to whisper, “Don’t fuck around, Stiles. I’ll tear out your spine if you break his heart.” She pulled back to grin at the both of them.

“Awesome, now we’ve both been threatened,” Stiles said.

“Lydia?” Erica asked.

“Of course. I think all of my other friends were Derek’s first.”

Erica snorted. “Maybe so, but don’t think we won’t take your side if Derek gets his head stuck too far up his ass.”

“What if we didn’t take any sides,” Derek grumbled.

“Where’s the fun in that,” Erica sighed. “But come on, if you’re up and walking, Boyd will want to see you.” Erica spun around and started leading Derek and Stiles through the camp. Derek got a lot of looks and sparked plenty of excited conversations as he walked through camp, but fortunately no one tried to come up and talk to him. “Oh, have you heard the good news?” Erica asked after a few moments.

“No.” Derek shot an accusatory glance at Stiles.

Stiles threw up his hands. “You were healing, excuse me for wanting you to take it easy.”

“By not telling me good news?” Derek scowled.

“Yes, because if I told you you’d charge out of your bed and try to do everything at once without taking a second to finish healing!”

“Erica,” Derek barked, because Stiles wasn’t wrong, “tell me.”

“They’ve retreated,” Erica grinned over her shoulder.

Derek stopped walking. “What? The whole force?”

“Yeah,” Erica turned around to face him. “Our attack weakened the main force, so they had already started drawing the eastern divisions back in. Then this morning the entire army picked up and started heading south. We have plenty of scouts out to make sure it isn’t a ploy, but for now it looks like a full-fledged retreat.”

“Why?” Derek asked after another moment of frowning silence.

Erica shrugged. “We don’t know yet. Hopefully we’ll get a messenger soon with some news from Princess Cora or Queen Laura, but for now the plan is to follow them up to the border to make sure they actually leave and stay gone.”

Derek frowned at her. “A full retreat?” He repeated after a moment of silence.

“You broke him,” Stiles said.

“I can't believe it,” Derek scowled.

“You don't have to,” Erica grinned. “You can see for yourself soon enough. Now come on, Boyd’s been very worried about you but he's refused to visit for reasons I can't fathom.”

“Probably because he wanted to keep secrets like you two,” Derek grumbled.

“Babe!” Erica hollered as they arrived at the training ring.

Boyd looked up from where he was making an adjustment to Liam’s footwork, face cracking into a huge smile as he saw Derek. He leaped over the fence and smothered Derek in a bear hug. “Look at you, up and about already.”

“I should hope so, it's been a whole day,” Derek huffed, but he tucked his head into Boyd’s shoulder and gave as good a hug as he got.

“You’ve probably heard the good news by now?” Boyd asked as he pulled back.

“Yeah, no thanks to you.”

“You needed to rest, not come out here and try to manage moving the entire camp.”

“No one else seems to be doing it.”

“Derek,” Stiles sighed, “no. Remember how you almost died a couple days ago? Let Peter handle things for a minute.”

“Let Peter handle it?” Derek asked, incredulous. “Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.”

Boyd chuckled while Stiles sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

“How about you let us handle things, hun.” Erica wrapped an arm around Derek’s waist.

“You can’t stop me from helping.”

“Sure,” Stiles agreed, “as long as Lydia clears you, you can help as much as you want.”

Derek’s scowl darkened. “Lydia never lets me do anything.”

“Yes, I know,” Stiles rolled his eyes, “it’s very cruel of her to look out for your health and wellbeing.”

Derek crossed his arms and Erica snorted, leaning father into his side. “Too bad,” she cooed. “You scare everyone like that and you have to suffer the consequences.”

“Fine,” Derek snapped. “Has there been any word from Laura?”

Boyd shook his head. “Nothing from the capital that I’ve been privy to.”

“I think Peter might’ve gotten a letter, but he hasn’t said anything about it to Morrell,” Stiles said. “Well, nothing that she’s shared with me, anyways.”

“It’s probably from one of his own people.” Erica squeezed the arm she still had around Derek. “Laura usually sends a letter for Peter and another for Derek so Peter can’t hog the information.”

“I was just about to start a fire a put on the stew pot,” Boyd put in after a moment of silence. “Anyone care to join me?”

“Yes, I am starving.” Erica said.

“Derek is supposed to eat a cow and a half today, according to Lydia, so yeah, we’ll come, too,” Stiles said.

“Good,” Boyd smiled. He turned back to the training ring, where Kira had taken over with Liam. “When you’re finished, I’m starting dinner,” Boyd called.

Kira smiled and nodded before going back to correcting Liam’s grip.

“Don’t work too hard,” Erica yelled behind them as Liam longingly looked after them. They walked leisurely to the fire pit, where Stiles pulled Derek down to sit on a log next to him while Erica got a fire going and Boyd went to get the food.

“So,” Erica settled down next to Stiles, “this morning, huh?”

“He nearly died, I had to do something,” Stiles scowled, pulling Derek to lean into his side.

Derek grinned and dropped his head down to rest against Stiles’ shoulder.

“Mhmm, obviously. And when are you planning to do the dirty? You need any supplies?”

Derek groaned and buried his face farther into Stiles’ shoulder.

“Uh, that’s, um… how do you know we haven’t already?” Stiles finally got out.

Erica tapped her nose. “I’d smell it if you had.”

“No privacy,” Derek mumbled into Stiles’ skin, “I told you there are no secrets in a werewolf camp.”

“Yeah, you weren’t kidding.” Stiles petted a hand through Derek’s hair.

“You sure you don’t need anything?” Erica leaned back and kicked out her legs. “I know Derek hasn’t screwed anyone since leaving home, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t either, Stiles. Boyd and I have been through all the oils you can get out here, and we’d be happy to offer some recommendations.”

“Wow, uh, thanks for that generous offer, Erica. I would really like to end this conversation, but I’m also really interested in what you’re saying.”

“No,” Derek picked his head up and glared first at Erica and then Stiles. “I don’t want to hear this. You can tell Stiles about your sex life some other time when I’m not around.”

Erica cackled while Stiles pulled Derek’s head back down to his shoulder and said, “okay, sweetheart, no sex talk where your precious ears can hear it.”

“Stiles,” Derek complained, but he didn’t move to pull away since he could feel his face heating with a blush.

Boyd returned before long, bringing Scott, Jackson, and Danny with him.

“Dude,” Scott stopped up short, staring at Stiles and Derek, and right, they were going to have to do this with everyone, now. “Is this for real?”

“Yeah, buddy,” Stiles grinned. “Go ahead, congratulate me.”

“That’s great,” Scott smiled back at him. “I’m really happy for you, dude.”

“Were you pining for me?” Derek sat up to look at Stiles.

“I mean, maybe.” A blush crawled over Stiles’ face. “There could have been some pining. Maybe a tasteful amount. Are you really telling me you weren’t pining at all?”

“Well at least I didn’t tell anyone about it.” Derek thunked his head back onto Stiles’ shoulder.

Erica snorted. “Yeah, god forbid Derek ever talk to anyone about his feelings. That would be unthinkable.”

“Good luck with that one, Stiles,” Boyd smirked from where he was chopping carrots into a pot.

“Don’t worry, I knew what I was getting into with this one.” Stiles pressed a kiss to Derek’s forehead after he spoke, so Derek decided to give him a pass just this once.

“Oh my god, they’re sickening,” Jackson muttered.

“Aw, really? I think they’re cute,” Danny replied.

“Do not tell me you support this kind of display.”

“They remind me of when Kira and I first got together,” Scott sighed.

“No, dude, do not compare us to you,” Stiles complained. “We are innocently cuddling, you and Kira were eating face every chance you got. It was horrifying.”

Derek smirked into Stiles’ skin and drifted off on Stiles’ shoulder to the good-natured bickering around him.

* * *

Derek was sitting outside his tent with Stiles, sharpening his blades since he had been banned from any so-called strenuous activity. Stiles was doing something with a big stack of papers that Allison periodically stopped by to add more sheets to. Derek slammed his sword back in its sheath and sighed, flopping back onto the grass and stretching.

“Okay, no one can expect me to get anything done with that happening right next to me,” Stiles mumbled. His papers rustled for a moment and then he was rolling on top of Derek, caging his head between his elbows. “Hey there,” he ducked to press a kiss to Derek’s mouth.

“Hey,” Derek smiled back, settling his hands on Stiles’ hips. He tipped up his chin to deepen the kiss, shivering as Stiles threaded a hand through his hair and tugged gently.

There was a sudden commotion of shouting and trumpets from the camp gate, and Derek sat up suddenly, arms tightening around Stiles.

“Derek? What’s going on?” Stiles asked.

Derek shook his head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t really sound like an attack.”

Stiles got up and offered his hands to pull Derek to his feet just before Isaac came pelting up, a huge grin plastered across his face. “Derek, it’s Queen Laura!” He skidded to a halt in front of him. “And she says she’s on her way to negotiate a surrender with Deucalion.”

Derek just stared at him, at a loss for words.

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles stepped in front of Derek, almost protectively. “A surrender, not an armistice or a peace treaty, but a surrender?”

“A surrender,” Isaac nodded, the smile never leaving his face. “Cora’s army got all the way to the capital in Mina and they’re holding the whole city hostage.”

Derek couldn’t believe his ears, and judging by the stunned silence, neither could Stiles. “Where is she,” Derek demanded, fisting a hand in the back of Stiles’ shirt. “I want to see my sister.”

“Of course, come on. She was heading to Peter’s tent when I came to get you.”

Derek followed after Isaac, not letting go of Stiles until they reached the closed flaps of Peter’s tent. He could smell Laura from here, so he took a bracing breath and ducked inside.

“There you are,” Laura’s face broke into a grin as she opened her arms for Derek to crash into. “I was shocked not to find you in the thick of tearing the camp down,” Laura grinned into Derek’s neck.

“I’ve been banned,” Derek grumbled.

“What, everyone got tired of your micromanaging?” Laura chuckled.

“Lydia said I couldn’t do anything strenuous all week, and now no one lets me do anything.” Derek rolled his eyes.

“All week.” Laura’s voice turned firm and she pushed Derek back to arm’s length, looking him up and down before casting an accusatory glance at Peter. “What happened? You look and smell fine to me.”

“I got stabbed days ago and everyone overreacted.”

Stiles snorted from behind Derek. “Yeah, you didn’t just ‘get stabbed,’ bud.” Derek turned to level a warning glare at Stiles, but he continued regardless. “What he did was get impaled on a wolfsbane spear during an attack and wander off into the woods afterwards, where he was presumed dead for the better part of a day until we found him after the Teufels started their retreat.”

“Oh my god.” Laura yanked Derek back into a brief, crushing hug before pushing him back again and pushing up his shirt.

“Laura,” Derek complained, but she hushed him before he got any further.

“It looks fine to me,” she said, brushing a hand over Derek’s stomach.

“Look at his back,” Stiles supplied.

Laura spun Derek around and made a wounded noise when she saw the scar still marring the skin of Derek’s back, now faded to white according to Stiles, who Derek was currently busy glaring at for all he was worth. Stiles just shrugged, looking completely unrepentant.

“How long ago did this happen?” Laura asked, rubbing the backs of her fingers over Derek’s scar.

“About four days,” Derek grumbled.

“Oh my _god_.” Laura yanked Derek back around to face her, squeezing his shoulders in her strong hands. “Did I not expressly forbid you from dying when I sent you out here?”

“And I didn’t!” Derek threw his arms out in exasperation. “Here I am, alive, there’s no reason to get so worked up.”

“Except that you’re still carrying around a scar four days later!” Laura seemed to get louder with every word she spoke. “Derek, this obviously wasn’t something you just shrugged off!”

“Well I worked very hard to stay alive, so I don’t see why I deserve to be yelled at.” Derek crossed his arms and stared down at his feet.

Laura sighed and pulled Derek’s stiff body back into a hug. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t be yelling at you. It’s just,” Laura let out a sound halfway between a sob and a chuckle, “four days ago, Cora had already been in control of Mina for three days. You almost died in a war we’d already won just because news hadn’t spread fast enough. Just --” Laura let out a sound much closer to a sob this time, “-- just think of how stupid that would be, after everything that’s happened.” Derek softened and hugged Laura back until Peter let out a little cough. “Okay,” Laura pulled back, wiping at her eyes, “now that we’ve had that unexpected bout of emotions.” She took a deep breath and turned to Peter. “Where were we?”

“You were heading to Mina to graciously accept Deucalion’s surrender, I believe,” Peter replied with a tight smile.

“Right, of course.” Laura took another deep breath in and out. “I left Deaton in the capitol to take care of things there while I am gone. Peter, you will come with me to Mina to help negotiate Teufel’s surrender. Derek, I am leaving you in charge of the border while we are in Teufel. No Teufel citizen is to cross for any reason until the terms of the surrender are clear and agreed upon. Likewise, none of our people should enter into Teufel, unless there is some dire need. We don’t want to upset the balance of things right now.”

Derek nodded.

“What of your retinue, Laura?” Peter asked. “Do you have more soldiers coming down to join you, or is this all you were planning to bring.”

Laura raised an eyebrow. “I am going to visit a conquered city, Peter, not storm a castle. I don’t need to take an army with me.”

“Not an army, no,” Peter agreed, “but you want to look very imposing when you arrive, certainly. And you don’t want to leave yourself open to an assassination along the road.”

Laura frowned. “I think I brought plenty of soldiers to ward off an ambush.”

“From a group of townspeople, yes, but what about an attack from part of the Teufel army? The chain of command is in disarray right now, I’m sure. What’s to keep a portion of the army from breaking away to come hunting for us?”

“What are you suggesting, Peter?” Laura snapped. “Get to the point and spare us the blustering.”

“My dear niece, I am merely suggesting that you bring one of Derek’s captains with you, along with their division of soldiers.”

“Very well,” Laura sighed. “Derek, what do you think? Will you be able to hold the border with only two companies?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Then who do you suggest I take?”

Derek thought for a moment. The size and skill level of all three companies was roughly the same, but he did not want to listen to Boyd or Erica bitch about being separated from each other for any amount of time. “Isaac?” He turned to look at Isaac, who was hovering by the entrance to the tent.

Isaac nodded and stepped forwards.

“Would you mind going?”

“I’d be honored,” Isaac said.

Derek looked back to Laura.

“Well, that’s settled, then,” Laura said. “I was hoping to move out tomorrow morning. Isaac, is that enough time for you?”

“Yes, of course, your majesty.”

“Good. Does anyone else have something to add?” Laura swept her gaze over the room.

“Will I come along with Peter, or stay here with Derek?” Morrell asked from her place leaning against a tent pole in the corner.

“You will come with us,” Laura said. “I think Stiles is more than capable of handling things here, from what I’ve heard in your reports, and the more people we have monitoring the city while we are in Mina the better, I should think.”

“Very well,” Morrell inclined her head.

Laura let a moment of silence sit heavy in the air before clapping her hands. “If that’s all, then let’s see about getting some food together. I could eat a horse, and I don’t expect the eating on the road to Mina to be anything to write home about.”

“Of course,” Peter smiled tightly. “Derek, why don’t you take care of that. I always hear such revelry around the camp, you must surely be a master of ceremonies by now.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but he turned and offered his arm to Laura. “Come on. Erica takes any chance she can to throw a feast, so I’m sure she’ll have started the preparations already.”

“I like that in a person.” Laura took Derek’s arm as they strolled out of Peter’s tent. “Have I met Erica before? Surely I have.”

“Yes, but only briefly before the war. She had only just entered society.”

“A young thing then. How did she adjust to life on the battlefield.”

Derek snorted. “She took to it like a duck to water. Erica is no shrinking violet deserving of your worry, Laura, let me assure you.”

“I like that in a person, too. I should be happy to meet her. Isaac,” Laura twisted around to look at Isaac, who was following behind them, “come here.”

Isaac hesitantly stepped forward to walk at Laura’s side. “Your majesty.”

“Tell me about yourself,” Laura smiled.

Isaac looked terrified. “Um, I’m Isaac of House Lahey. We have served --”

“Yes, yes,” Laura waved a hand in the air, “I’m well aware of House Lahey and the generations it has served House Hale. But what about you? How old are you? Are you married? What life will you return to after the war?”

“I am one and twenty, your majesty, and I am unmarried, but I hope to make an offer of marriage very soon now that the war comes to an end. Before the war, I managed most of the affairs of our Earldom, and I believe after I return from the war, my father wishes to retire to the countryside permanently, leaving me in charge.”

“So young again, Derek, are all of your captains so young?”

Derek shrugged. “Boyd is only four and twenty, and he’s the oldest of the bunch.”

“This whole time, and I did not know.” Laura clucked her tongue. “Who are you planning to make your offer of marriage to, Isaac?”

“Allison Argent.” Isaac’s face burst into a blush.

“The Argent heir, quite a match, I must say. But I’m sure a Lahey is plenty good enough for them. I wish you luck in your proposal, Isaac.”

“Thank you very much, Your Majesty.”

They had made it to the fire pit by then, and Derek spotted Erica standing over the fire, Liam, Mason, Abdul, Danny, and Jackson crouched around her.

“Erica,” Derek called, and she whipped her head around, a smile growing on her face as she took them in. “Laura wanted a feast, so I told her you were the person to talk to. Laura, this is Erica, daughter of Marchioness Reyes of the western border.”

“And very right you were.” Erica stepped forward to meet them halfway. “Your Majesty, I am honored,” Erica bowed to Laura. “I sent Boyd to find us some meat with Malia, Scott, Ayako, and Nitya. In the meantime, the boys and I are getting some tubers and mushrooms ready.”

“Marchioness Reyes, you say?” Laura let go of Derek’s arm and stepped closer to Erica. “I have found her support invaluable throughout the war. Let me see what you’ve got so far.

Erica grinned and turned around to lead Laura to the fire and the wide-eyed group of soldiers clustered around it.

“She’s scary,” Isaac whispered when Laura and Erica were far enough away not to hear.

“She’s not that bad. Don’t let her intimidate you, she likes that far too much.”

“She’s a queen, Derek, what am I supposed to do.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “I’m a prince, you don’t seem to have any trouble with me.”

“That is not the same thing.”

“It’s really not that different. And unlike me, Laura admires sass and backtalk, so you should do just fine.”

Isaac scowled. “I’m going to tell Allison that I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“By all means.”

Isaac spun on his heel and jogged away. Derek turned to Stiles as Isaac disappeared from view. “You’ve been quiet.”

“Yeah…” Stiles rubbed at the top of his head. “Sorry if I made things awkward earlier with the whole you-almost-died crisis.”

“It’s okay,” Derek shrugged. “She needed to know anyways.”

“I still could have handled that a lot more delicately. I didn’t really put all the pieces together with the whole, uh, family history,” Stiles winced, “wow, I keep making this worse.”

Derek chuckled and stepped forward to wrap an arm around Stiles. “It’s okay. Just because most of our family is dead doesn’t mean we’re made of glass. But she was right, it would’ve been pretty crappy if I had died in a war that was already over.”

“Tell me about it,” Stiles reached up to tug on Derek’s earlobe, “I’m the one who had to live in that reality for the better part of a day.”

“Come on,” Derek shot a quick glance over his shoulder at Erica and Laura before pulling Stiles back towards his tent. “Let’s leave them to their scheming so we can enjoy the rest of the afternoon.”

“They do really look like they’re getting along.” Stiles craned over Derek’s shoulder to watch the two, who were already leaning into each other and laughing like old friends.

“I always knew they would. Laura likes a girl who can take over the world.”

“I kinda thought Erica would be more, I dunno, threatened or something.”

“Laura’s the queen, what is there to be threatened by?”

“Um, Laura being the queen and taking everything over?”

“She knows better than to do that, these days. Laura is all about playing to everyone’s strengths, it’s very mature and nauseating.”

That startled a laugh out of Stiles, and Derek grinned in satisfaction. Stiles’ papers were somehow still neatly arranged when they arrived back at Derek’s tent.

“Hey, it worked!” Stiles crowed, scooping up his papers and hugging them to his chest.

Derek narrowed his eyes. “Did you do that with magic?”

“Yup.”

“Didn’t you say you couldn’t do much with your magic?”

“No, I said it was unreliable as to when it would work or not.” He looked down at his papers and shrugged. “This was just a time it worked.”

Derek nodded and plopped down on the grass next to all of his scattered weaponry, half of it freshly sharpened. “Come on,” Derek patted the grass next to him, looping an arm around Stiles waist when he sat and hooking his chin over Stiles’ shoulder. “Now what exactly have you been doing with all of these papers?”

“Well --” and Stiles was off, waxing poetic and waving his hands as he described his system of scouts and how he used the reports they brought in. Derek smiled into the skin of Stiles’ shoulder and pulled him more closely against the curve of his body while he listened.

* * *

It was nearly dark by the time Boyd came strolling up to tell them dinner was ready and Laura was asking where Derek was. Derek groaned and heaved himself to his feet, pulling Stiles up after himself.

“No strenuous activity,” Boyd reminded, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Shut up,” Derek replied with little heat before turning to Stiles. “Did you want to leave your papers in my tent, or drop them off in yours?”

“I’ll leave them here, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t.”

Stiles smiled and ducked inside Derek’s tent, reemerging in a hurry. The three made their way back to the fire pit together and joined the short line that remained to get some food. Boyd broke off once they had served themselves to go sit next to Erica. Laura waved Derek over, and Stiles turned to start looking through the crowd gathered to eat, looking a little lost. Derek rolled his eyes and grabbed Stiles wrist to tow him along behind himself. Three could sit on a log comfortably, and of course no one had yet been brave enough to sit next to Laura.

“Having fun?” Derek asked as he sat, pulling Stiles down next to himself.

“More than I thought I would.” Laura replied. “I do like your Erica.”

“Well you can’t have her. She’s mine first, and then she’s Boyd’s.”

“Yes, she did tell me all about Boyd. And then I had to watch them together. A hopeless matter for me to get involved with, and I’m sure their parents are very keen on that match, too. Quite the nice consolidation of power in the western hills, you should start watching your back once you return to court.”

Derek made a dismissive noise. “I trust the two of them with more than my back.”

“Hmm, then I’ll have to get someone to watch it for you.” Laura took that moment to lean around Derek to look Stiles. “Stiles, how have you settled in with these ruffians?”

“Quite well, Your Majesty,” Stiles said. “All my worry from before was for nought, they’ve actually been very welcoming.”

“I knew they would be,” Laura grinned. “As much as my brother may look a monster, he’s actually quite a sweetheart.”

“What is this?” Derek asked. “You two know each other?”

“A little.” Laura patted Derek’s thigh. “Nothing for you to be jealous over.”

“You know I trained with Deaton in the capitol, both for spying and for my magic.” Stiles said. “The Queen sometimes came to see him while I was with him.”

“That makes sense,” Derek allowed before tucking into his food. It was really quite good, seasoned venison with carrots and mushrooms, and radishes for a side. Derek made a note to congratulate Erica later when he could get her alone.

Laura stood up and stretched expansively when she finished eating. “I’ve got an early morning in front of me, so I’m going to sleep. Don’t stay up all night.” She bent down to drop a kiss to the top of Derek’s head.

Derek watched her wind her way through the crowd, then leaned his weight into Stiles.

“You getting tired?” Stiles asked, wrapping an arm around Derek’s waist.

“A little.” Derek rested his head on Stiles’ shoulder and watched his soldiers talking and laughing around the fire. In just a few days he would lose this. The war would be over; his people would return to their homes far and wide across the western hills, and Derek would return to his castle, with all of its courtly manners and intricate management. “Will you come home with me, afterwards? Or do you have to go back to the capital?”

Stiles went stiff for a moment. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I’m sure we could work something out with Laura, if you’re sure you want me to come back with you.”

“Of course I’m sure,” Derek frowned. “Do you not want to?”

“Derek, I just got you. I’m not giving you up so soon if I can help it.”

Derek smiled and rubbed his cheek against Stiles’ shoulder.

“... Are you scent marking me?” There was a smile obvious in Stiles’ voice.

“So what if I am?”

“I just might have to mark you back when we go to bed tonight,” Stiles whispered into Derek’s ear.

Derek shivered and sat up. “I’m ready to go to bed.”

Stiles laughed and let Derek pull him to his feet and back to his tent.

* * *

Laura left in a bustle of pomp the next morning. Derek watched her retinue, flanked by Isaac’s division, until it twisted out of view along the road. Then he turned back to the matter at hand of getting the camp moved down to the river, which was the original border with Teufel before the war began.

All of Stiles’ scouts indicated that the Teufel army had withdrawn to a day’s march within their own borders, where half of the army had set up camp while the other half had continued on towards Teufel’s capital at Mina. That put Derek’s mind at ease, since they would have plenty of warning if the remaining Teufel soldiers decided to launch any sort of last-ditch attack on them.

Derek was still not allowed to do anything useful, so he walked around camp and tried to make sure everything was being done properly until Stiles came to drag him away.

“Stop terrorising your soldiers, Derek,” Stiles sighed, grabbing Derek’s hand and pulling him away from where he was trying to explain how a tent should be rolled to prevent creasing.

“I’m not terrorising anyone.” Derek reluctantly let himself be lead away. “They’re not doing it right, the canvas is going to be ruined when they try to set it up again.”

“I don’t think it’s going to be ruined just because it gets a little creased for a couple of days. Now come on, you’re supposed to be resting and healing.”

“I’ve done enough resting and healing to bring myself back from the dead,” Derek grumbled.

“Well that’s great, since that’s exactly what you’re doing!”

“I was never dead. _Nearly dead_ and _dead_ are two vastly different states of being.”

“Uh-huh, you didn’t find your body all crumpled up and pale and covered in blood in the woods, so we will just have to agree to disagree on that one.”

“Where are we going?”

Stiles had brought them outside the camp gates, and he seemed to be heading towards the stream that ran nearby. As much as Derek might like swimming, it was still too cold to enjoy a dip in a mountain-fed stream.

“We are going somewhere you can relax, which means not seeing everyone working all around you.”

“I still don’t see why I can’t do anything at all. Not all of what needs to be done is heavy-lifting.”

“I don’t make the rules, Derek, I just carry them out if I happen to agree with them. Besides, I’m under strict orders from Boyd to get you out of the camp. Apparently you almost made someone cry earlier.”

“Why are they crying? I’m just trying to offer some advice so they don’t ruin everything.”

Stiles sighed. “Yeah, I can’t imagine why anyone would want to cry after you tell them that.”

Derek scowled and took a breath to argue back, but Stiles spun around just then and laid his hands on Derek’s chest.

“Can you hear anybody back at camp?” Stiles asked.

Derek strained his ears, but he couldn’t hear anything distinct from this distance, just a general mumble of sound. He shook his head.

“Great, then let’s sit down.” Stiles settled on the grass and tugged at Derek’s hand until he sat next to him. They sat there and stared at each other for a moment until Stiles blurted, “wow, I thought I’d have some sort of move once we got to this point.”

Derek raised an eyebrow.

“And I just have such a worrying response to your eyebrows, I’m going to embarrass myself once we’re back in polite society.”

Derek smirked as he caught a whiff of Stiles’ arousal in the air. “Come here.” He pulled at Stiles’ arm until Stiles scooted into his lap, then he laid down, pulling Stiles to rest against his chest.

“Okay, yup, I’m into that. I’m going to kiss you now.”

Derek laughed and spoiled the kiss. It took him a few moments to calm down, so Stiles gave up on him and ducked down to scrape his teeth over the skin of Derek’s neck. That sobered him up quickly, and he was soon groaning softly as Stiles worried a mark into his skin with his teeth. Stiles drew back with a satisfied air to look down at his handiwork. “Since you like being marked so much,” Stiles smiled, thumbing Derek’s lower lip. Derek sucked Stiles’ thumb into his mouth, prompting a full-body shudder from above him.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need to,” Stiles mumbled as he leaned down, cutting himself off by pressing a kiss to Derek’s mouth. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ ribs, pulling him down tightly against his own body. Derek shivered as Stiles caged his arms around Derek’s head, surrounding Derek with his scent and making him feel protected and small. He could feel himself going to butter underneath Stiles, who whispered, “yeah, that’s right, just like that,” between kisses.

They kissed until their lips went clumsy and nearly numb from use. Stiles settled with his head on Derek’s chest, and Derek floated in a space between waking and sleeping, threading his fingers slowly through Stiles’ hair.

“Derek!” Erica called, startling Derek so badly he almost shot claws through Stiles’ scalp.

“Hey, easy on the goods, there,” Stiles hummed, worming his way up higher on Derek’s chest.

“What is it, Erica?” Derek asked, rubbing his eyes and pushing himself to sit up while Stiles made grumbly complaining sounds into his collarbone.

“We’re ready to leave.” Erica came to a stop at Derek’s hip.

“No,” Derek groaned, “who tore down my tent?”

“Don’t worry.” Erica rolled her eyes. “Boyd did it all himself, and he was very meticulous about it.”

“Good.”

“It doesn’t even smell like sex out here. Are the two of you really saving it for marriage?”

“It’s never been the right time, Erica.” Stiles finally picked his head up to join the conversation. “It has to be very romantic; I mean have you seen this face?” Stiles framed Derek’s frowning face in his hands. “This face deserves only the very best of romance.”

“Yeah, you might be right on that one.” Erica ruffled Derek’s hair. Derek would’ve felt very indignant, but the look Stiles was giving him was so blatantly fond that he couldn’t bring himself to be anything but fond in response.

“Oh my god, the two of you get worse every day, I swear. Come on, we’ve got a whole camp to move.”

Derek reluctantly heaved himself to his feet, giving Stiles a hand up after him. “Come on,” Derek sighed, “let’s go finish this war.”

“That sounds very ominous when all of the fighting should be over,” Stiles said.

“Should, Stiles, should.”

Erica and Stiles rolled their eyes nearly in unison.

* * *

It was slow going to move with all of their supplies, especially when there wasn’t any sense of urgency to hurry them along. The war was over, for all intents and purposes, and it took them three days to march to the river. Derek was not allowed to carry more than a light pack even though they passed the one week mark on the last day. He was beginning to think this was merely a grand conspiracy to frustrate him, since according to Stiles, the scar left on his back was as good as gone. However, he was allowed to hold Stiles’ hand while they walked, so he considered that an acceptable substitute.

It took another day to set up the camp, and after that they had nothing to do but await Laura’s return. Derek liked the cool dark next to the river, so he dragged Stiles out to sit with him on the bank nearly every day. They did a lot of kissing, and Stiles even found his romantic moment.

“Derek, watch, I’ve been practicing something,” Stiles said as they settled onto a thick blanket of moss under a water oak.

“Okay.” Derek settled a hand on Stiles ankle where it was crossed in front of him.

Stiles grinned at him and then sent a shower of sparks shooting out over the river water from his fingers.

Derek startled and stared at Stiles for a moment. “Was that you making your magic take visible form?”

“Pretty cool, right?” A blush was creeping up Stiles’ cheeks.

“Pretty cool, what -- Stiles, we don’t have any mages in the entire court who can do that, the amount of control and raw power you need to do that is -- didn’t you tell me your magic was unpredictable and not well-controlled?”

“Yeah,” Stiles shrugged, still grinning. “It’s a lot easier to manage when I’m around you. Maybe it’s a perk of your alpha powers, I don’t know.”

Derek stilled. “You mean, maybe you’re my emissary?”

“I mean, I don’t know for sure, but yeah, signs are kind of pointing towards that explanation.”

Derek grinned and tackled Stiles back into the moss, kissing the breath out of him.

“Hey, so I talked to Erica about the oils, and she said --”

“Oh my god, Stiles,” Derek groaned, “I don’t want to hear what she said. Just pick one and use it.”

“Okay, but, uh, should I be using it on you or on me?”

“On me,” Derek whispered into Stiles’ ear.

“Oh my god.”

Derek laughed as Stiles crushed their mouths together so hard Derek tasted blood.

* * *

Ten days later saw Laura sweeping into camp again, flanked by Isaac and her retinue. She was all smiles and adrenaline after officially ending the war, and she threw herself into Derek’s arms the moment she saw him.

“I can’t believe it!” she nearly yelled in his face. “It’s over, and I won!”

“You did,” Derek laughed. “Is Cora coming back?”

“She went home a different way. We decided it would be a bad idea to try to move two armies clumped into one.”

“Probably wise,” Stiles said from where he stood at Derek’s elbow.

Laura pulled Derek back into another crushing hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

Derek frowned, puzzled. “What do you mean?” he asked when Laura didn’t come forward with an explanation.

“Stiles, of course,” Laura gestured towards him. “I thought you’d never love again, but let me tell you that I am thrilled to be proven wrong. I think he’s perfect for you.”

Derek had frozen in place, eyes wide in shock from the beginning of Laura’s sentence.

“What, did you think I didn’t know? Darling, Lydia tells me everything important that happens to you in this camp. The news of your near-death was a bit late, true, but we assume I passed the messenger on the road coming down here, so all was forgiven.”

“Of course it was Lydia,” Derek growled.

“Now, now, there’s no need to be cross. Did I not just finish telling you how happy I was for you?”

“Yes, but I thought you’d be -- I mean, the treaties you’ve been working on --”

“Derek, when you were determined to die alone of course I was going to try to prevent that. But now you’re obviously in love, so there’s no need for my interference. Not to mention your dalliance is with Mieczyslaw Stilinski, I doubt you could do better for bloodlines.”

“What?” Derek looked over at Stiles, who winced.

“Stiles is, uh, kind of a nickname, since who wants to say Mieczyslaw all the time.”

“And Stilinski?” Derek asked, looking between Laura and Stiles.

“That’s my dad’s name, since my mom wanted to be romantic and take his. Her name was Claudia Możność.”

Derek’s jaw dropped. “You mean to tell me that all this time you’ve been from one of the oldest, most powerful magical families in the north, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I don’t really live up to the name, so no, I didn’t want to set you up for disappointment.”

“I saw you manifest your magic at the river, Stiles.”

“And I told you, that’s a very new thing, thanks to your general proximity.”

Laura gasped, and Derek had almost forgotten she was still there. “You mean you’re an emissary?”

“Probably, maybe, I don’t know for sure, I’m just guessing.”

“This just keeps getting better and better. An emissary, Derek, I can’t believe it.” Laura’s grin was threatening to split her face in half it was so wide.

“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Stiles stepped forward to put a hand on Derek’s forearm.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t really matter, I was just...” Derek shrugged, “surprised.”

“But this doesn’t change anything, right?” Stiles stepped even closer, sliding a hand around Derek’s waist.

“No, of course not,” Derek frowned.

“I’m still coming back with you after this, right?”

“Of course.”

“Okay.” Stiles’ face broke into a relieved smile, and he leaned in to press a quick kiss to Derek’s cheek.

“Now that is sickeningly sweet right there.” Laura pulled the both of them into a hug. “I’m already looking forward to planning the wedding. Now,” Laura pulled back while Stiles and Derek smiled at each other, “where’s Erica, I think this calls for a party.”


End file.
